There are many ways to define our fragile existence; many ways to give it meaning. But it is our memories that shape its purpose and give it context. The private assortment of images: fears, loves, regrets for its the cruel irony of life that we are destined to hold the dark with the light, the good with the evil, success with disappointment this is what separates us, what makes us human. And in the end, we must fight to hold on to.
When confronted by our worst nightmares, the choices are few; Fight or flight. We hope to find the strength to stand against our fears but sometimes, despite ourselves, we run. What if the nightmare gives chase? Where can we hide then?
The Earth is large. Large enough that you think you can hide from anything. From Fate. From God. If only you found a place far enough away. So you run. To the edge of the Earth. Where all is safe again. Quiet, and warm. The solace of salt air. The peace of danger left behind. The luxury of grief. And maybe, for a moment, you believe you have escaped.
HAI.