What of?

A Story by Deco

A moment of introspection.

Life...what is it made of? How have we determined that it is made of anything? Conception, parturiency, birth, existence, demise- the set pathway by which life must travel. But are these the factors determining that...here, once before, or, there is life and thus the makings? Or is life something more? Is life made of our encounters? Of our never ending series of comings and goings? Or is it of the connections we make(or hope to make) through said encounters. Is life made of our precious dreams, fleeting and lasting, essential or incidental beneath the unchanging stars? Or is it those rare moments in between? I often find myself desperately wanting to relive my dream after I wake except the problem is that the pursuit is often always incidental that abandoning it comes easy. Maybe I should try the other kind of dream.