Mark 05

We come into this world with nothing.

Along the way, we become fragments of what we have lived through. The people we have been. The things we have felt. The parts we keep, and the parts we leave behind without noticing.

Maybe we never become one complete, finished version of ourselves. There is always something changing, something missing, something from another time still hanging around.

And when we leave, the world carries on. Maybe a few words stay. Maybe something we made. Maybe a small part of us stays with someone else.

We are not here to be remembered. We are here to leave fragments.