We are immortals.
We leave our marks in this world.
Our dead body will eventually decay, absorbed by roots of plants, used up for their photosynthesis. In the end we are no more than atoms and quarks, chemical substances. No name, no pride – nothing. Just atoms.
Workers died finishing off the Chrysler Building, do you remember their names? Slaves died of starvation in the making of the Gaza Pyramid, do you even know them? Those anonymous, long-forgotten workers? Girls drowned by the vicious waves, do searches for her linger years after she went missing? What mark?
The Pyramid is there. It was their mark. The Chrysler still standing tall and proud. It was their mark. Memories of her linger in the hearts of her relatives. It was her mark.
And what good does memory do? Relatives will eventually die in ten years or so. Will the grandson of the relative remember the girl? Will the memories of a dead relative be passed onto another? We will eventually be forgotten.
On our days, we will try our best to make those people happy and ensure they have the bests of life. That is our mark.