There is no religion for the blood coursing through the veins. The flow of the red stuff rushing and pumped by a heart. The very essence of what is to being a being is just all but ignored in the myriad of thoughts that run amok in the brain of the everyday Joe. One seldom stops to cast a thought about how the here and now are related to the very flesh that allows to entertain the very fabric of what it is to be a being.
I am certain I am no different to other flesh like minded people in the vicinity of my existence. We are all but hedonist to the kilt. No thought is laid as a foundation for future pondering as regards the very flesh that sustains life. Yes, Memento mori rules the second or the pumping of air from my lungs as I live and breathe my decaying corpse.
5 Han clachado
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