What, if anything, am I leaving behind? Am I just drifitng through life, a wanderer, with no destination? There is nothing with wandering, just as long as there is a destination, a place to end. As Bilbo Baggins wrote about Strider, “Not all who wander are lost.” At the end, what will be left of my life, my few years here on earth?
Sometimes, I wonder what would happen to my blog if I all of a sudden died or went into a coma. How long would my words stay frozen here on the internet. Would Blogger turn off my account after a certain time? Or would my blog just stay up indefinately?
On another note, I really like sitting in front of my fire, the wood crackling nicely, with Sigur Ros playing in the background. Even though my house will smell like a campfire afterwards. (The wood is still a bit damp).