Generations come, and generations go. The sun rises from the east and sets in the west, and quickly returns to where it rises for yet another day. The wind blows to the south, to the north, round and round ever returning to its course. The water flows down the streams, to the sea, but yet the sea is never full, then again to where the streams began. A new day at school, another day for work. A predictable sequence of life we face; education in our teenage years, followed by university for some. Then, “I shall make money and get married”. All the grievous work ensues because we must leave something to the one after us. What is the point of it all? The saddest thing is that when we are there, we may think it is wonderful. And who knows whether they will be a wise person or a fool?
If it all ends in a wooden box, 2 meters long, why bother?
The tenderest memories we have, our proudest achievements, the pleasures that we never deny ourselves and all the love within our hearts will be erased, be extinct. Existence that ends is pointless and cast an impenetrable doubt of meaninglessness over our lives. Everything is meaningless, unless it lasts.
I discovered and now know the truth, that there is something truly beautiful beyond. That the greatest investment I can make in my life is on something that will outlast life itself.
Victor Chen.
