DRH 1/2

Is it true? That our lives are so short and meaningless? That, in the space between one blink to the next, it's like you were never even there in the first place? Do we live on in memory, or are we transformed into things we never were? A better student, a better classmate, a better neighbour, a worse enemy, a louder phone-user, a more annoying customer...

Is no moment our own? Are we cursed to live with the burden of knowing that every first impression is a first impression? That there are only so many ways to dazzle someone beyond belief? That, most of the time, people walk away from a first-date thinking "well, that was alright"? And when we die, and we weren't interesting enough for anyone to write about, we die as quietly as we were born?

Is it wrong...

Is it wrong to want more than that?

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