Present Tense
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Snape/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
4,920
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Snape/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
4,920
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Life
I often question why we are on this earth. What it means. We—humans, Wizards, either—go about our lives nearly oblivious to the world around us. Life has become the sum of all our cheap thrills and the moments between.
Then I think of the other creatures. The birds, the spiders, the flies, the mosquitoes. Everything is food for everything else. Except us. We’ve somehow forgotten our place in it all. The important things have become perceived responsibility. Getting the paper in on time, earning money, gaining accolades from peers, not blinking, not loosing face, not breaking laws that were set down in distant times by distant men upheld by new faces in new times.
Somehow we have built our own species up to such great heights, the intentional fall causes more fear than the inevitable failing.
The meaning of life. The meaning of life. The meaning of human life. The meaning of this life. The meaning of my life.
Over and over and over, these thoughts run through my head. I come to conclusions and somehow that is not enough. It’s never enough. Then I let it go, thinking that perhaps I simply wasn’t meant to know.
But then I think sometimes that I am asking the wrong question.
Perhaps it is not about me and my ilk at all. Perhaps the question lies wherein I consider myself. My importance.
After displacing myself from the top (as humans are wont to do) the question is no longer about meaning. All things live and die. All things change. All things are eaten by something else. Even us. The microbes within us, or the bacteria that decays our flesh when we die.
I think about flies. Carriers of pestilence. They neither help us, nor any other creature. They simply are.
There is no meaning. Nothing is more important than anything else.
Somehow I find this thought comforting. Despite all I have endured, despite all Severus has endured, I we are still alive, still able to draw breath. Just like the spiders in the corners, and the flies they eat.
The word transcendence comes to mind. I wonder if this is what it feels like.
Then I think of the other creatures. The birds, the spiders, the flies, the mosquitoes. Everything is food for everything else. Except us. We’ve somehow forgotten our place in it all. The important things have become perceived responsibility. Getting the paper in on time, earning money, gaining accolades from peers, not blinking, not loosing face, not breaking laws that were set down in distant times by distant men upheld by new faces in new times.
Somehow we have built our own species up to such great heights, the intentional fall causes more fear than the inevitable failing.
The meaning of life. The meaning of life. The meaning of human life. The meaning of this life. The meaning of my life.
Over and over and over, these thoughts run through my head. I come to conclusions and somehow that is not enough. It’s never enough. Then I let it go, thinking that perhaps I simply wasn’t meant to know.
But then I think sometimes that I am asking the wrong question.
Perhaps it is not about me and my ilk at all. Perhaps the question lies wherein I consider myself. My importance.
After displacing myself from the top (as humans are wont to do) the question is no longer about meaning. All things live and die. All things change. All things are eaten by something else. Even us. The microbes within us, or the bacteria that decays our flesh when we die.
I think about flies. Carriers of pestilence. They neither help us, nor any other creature. They simply are.
There is no meaning. Nothing is more important than anything else.
Somehow I find this thought comforting. Despite all I have endured, despite all Severus has endured, I we are still alive, still able to draw breath. Just like the spiders in the corners, and the flies they eat.
The word transcendence comes to mind. I wonder if this is what it feels like.