traces of being

and then there will come the days when you’re gone and your children read your letters and notes and diaries and wonder what you were thinking, and even though they see those letters for the first time, there are such uncanny similarities with their own lives that they cannot explain and that seem so strange. as if we were unintended replication machines since the start, producing ourselves over and over again, even when we try to get a different result… we can only teach what we are. and however much we sometimes criticize our parents, we can only become what they were, and no different. there will always be recognisable traces.

or are those traces visible to us because we’re looking for similarities with the ones we miss?


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s