Produce, fill the Earth
I like to think that in a way, the meaning of life is to produce. When you're gone, at least there's a chance that someone who you never met could get to know you through the things that you produced.
For some people producing means offspring. Some paint pictures or write books. Others produce ideas that make them millionaires eventhough money, of course, is not a very personal thing.
So I'm sad to find myself in the middle of people who have stopped producing. People who once lived through the creations they produced. People who know have different goals and whom no longer spend their time leaving these little marks behind.
How did I end up in this?
For some people producing means offspring. Some paint pictures or write books. Others produce ideas that make them millionaires eventhough money, of course, is not a very personal thing.
So I'm sad to find myself in the middle of people who have stopped producing. People who once lived through the creations they produced. People who know have different goals and whom no longer spend their time leaving these little marks behind.
How did I end up in this?