The stories we believe in, tell ourselves, and tell our loved ones about what awaits on the other side of death… these stories make sense, the feel right. But why? Or rather, HOW is it we’re able to believe in something that no one has any real clue about? What a strange occurrence.
I, too, have my theories about what lays beyond the exit tunnel of life, and they’re pretty interesting (if I do say so myself). But my theories are more palliative than imperative; I believe in them because this life has more meaning & magic if there is something behind the curtain which I can’t quite touch but can’t disprove either.
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