When my hard drive powers-off for the last time
No one will take the time to boot-up my hard drive. Nobody knows the password.
Maybe I’ll be recycled. I’ll request it. Maybe hold a little recycling ceremony acknowledging the temporariness of all that appears to be physical.
Will what is on my hard drive matter to anyone but me?
Will anyone be interested in following the trail of ideas organize by ‘date created’ or ‘date modified?’
Will anyone be interested in seeing the sequence of insights and attempts to decipher what appears to be reality in the different phases of my life.
Will anyone be interested in my quests for understanding, my forays beyond the veil into the inner sanctum.
These would be frivolous pursuits.
My hope would be that anyone who might be so inclined would already be past the urge to do it for any reason other than curiosity.
Curiosity about the unknown is always encouraged.
And the thing about the unknown is there’s an infinite supply of it, so one should never be bored.
The only evidence of my passing is the echoes of my thoughts and feelings as they ripple their way through the universe, a quantum vibration that leaves it imprint in the fabric of consciousness as it passes, playing with all the other vibrations as they pass to create what is behind what appears to be.
Lend your light and let it ripple through eternity.