Life As A Sculpture

[Venus with the apple awarded by Paris - Bertel Thorwaldsen]

We dance through our moments, as though time flows endless like the sea, as the tides of our days rise and fall. But we are just some universal detritus that flows along a river for a while, from our birth until we flow out into that universal sea of non-existence. It doesn’t mean that life is valueless because therefore it has no meaning, quite the opposite. It is valuable because it is so transitory, so brief against the age of the universe and special to ourselves.

Furthermore, our lives belong to ourselves and ourselves alone, not to any greater purpose, not to a god, not to a destiny, not to a country and – therefore - no-one has any right to take it away or use it for their purposes without our consent.

Our life is our own to shape and to build, a sculpture that we create around ourselves and for ourselves and through ourselves. It is – in the end – all we have and without it we have nothing, we become nothing, only existing as a fading memory.

That is why it matters to make the most of your life for yourself, not wasting it in worship of false gods, and all gods are false because they were created to explain things that now we have better explanations for. They were the stories told to comfort us when we were children.

We are too old for that sort of thing now.