 Entropy is the hammer of time. Everything within this plane of existence is subject to decay and disintegration. We are born, we live, and we die. What remains behind is eventually consumed and recycled into something else. This is the one inescapable constant in the universe, yet human beings do everything within their power to prevent the consequence of mortality. We take extraordinary measures to put off our eventual conclusion. In what extra time we manage to gain within this physical form, we do great deeds and construct mighty edifaces in hopes that after we are gone, a portion of who we are might remain. Yet even the fruits of our labors are subject to the forces of entropy. Every monument of our existance eventually crumbles into dust. However, the universe wastes nothing. Our bodies are recycled into the land and pieces of our existence are reborn as the cycle of life goes on. The true irony of death is that it is the one thing which allows us to continue on eternally, surviving within everything that lives after us. This is what I learned from my conversations with Thanatos.
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