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Time is a demon. Maybe that is an illusion. An illusion we overlook because we spend our lives filled with emptiness. Waiting. Waiting, for the end we all know is coming.
All of time we partake in trying to fill this void. Stuffing it full of material things that we pay for with a piece of material we invented. So is it actually even real? Money? Mansions? That same designer purse every woman thinks she should carry? Yeah, you know the one.
Is it likely that everything we see around us is some figment of our imagination? Have we created it to make our lives better, or to pack the space that our minds see?
Early man had so little, but was able to do so much? Views are changing drastically. A changing society has adapted to be that way. Trends come in, trends go out. Seems like on a week to week basis.
We are unlike our ancestors, is it that we view things differently?
Men of the past had to survive. They did not have the things to fill their space, they filled it with actions. Our modern race is simply surviving. Packed by the things, what the imagination has created. Is it really living?
Brooke Myers 