Lights at night or my interpretation of street photography.
Musing:
We all suffer differently. Why do we often think that our pain is more valid and deeper than anyone else’s? It’s not a competition. We live very short lives. Nothing is eternal and one day, everything about us will be forgotten. Hopefully. One day everything that made us special will be gone and every trace we left will vanish into thin air. As if we never even existed.
reflections of an unquiet mind 
It’s a sobering thought that, unless we were famous (or infamous) in life for some accomplishment or another, most of us will be completely forgotten once all who knew us are also gone from this earth.
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I agree with you. I often think about that. One day, someone will look at pictures of me and my family and recognize no one. That’s when I am forgotten. Except for my books that are scattered all around the world. I believe that I am greedy though. And I would like more of my books to be everywhere in the world…
Maybe before the internet those things were different? We didn’t leave traces on strangers’ lives. We simply existed in our own bubbles.
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Yes, at least you are published, and you’ll live on through your books, so long as there are copies still in existence.
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