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  • Writer: Amanda Riddell
    Amanda Riddell
  • Feb 12
  • 1 min read

Is who I am when I'm awake a dream, Or is facing death the real delusion? Some of us scream, While others seek seclusion. A lonely path no one wishes to chart. Vain, preening, needy, fierce; All those mean nothing at the end. Nothing is permanent. My ever-changing self Will become unrecogniseable. However, one thing is clear. The world goes on after we die, Yet our possibilities remain infinite. Amanda Riddell February 2025

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1 Comment

Julia Maria Seemann
Julia Maria Seemann
Feb 12

Amanda.... Thank you. This is so profound and such a gift for me to receive today. Thank you. Julia

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