MORTALITY OF NAME

     Like a billion other people, I have always had a certain fear of death. The thoughts come in randomly, in ways that are many times uncontrolled. It is possible that I may have been a victim of sudden, violent death in my past life (assuming you believe in that sort of thing), and the residual memories creep in as paranoia. Whatever the case may be, as I grow older, it is not physical death that frightens me. It is a metaphorical death. That after I am gone, I am forgotten. That the path laid before me lacks my footprint. The deal here, is to die empty. To have given humanity my all. My gifts, talents, heart, and dedication, to create something that should stand the test of time. Mortality of name is the fear that haunts my dreams. If anything, keeps me up at night. As it does this, it also fuels constant transformations, to enable an embodiment of my true purpose. It is a double edged sword, in which ironically, to achieve my goal, I have to die, over, and over, and over again, to eventually, well, not die. To be remembered, even after the physical death, which is an absolute. Constant renewals to become something new at different phases of life. Many deaths and rebirths, both equally painful. Between us, I may never stop questioning why that is.

— Tolú