What´s it like to start something you´re never going to finish? Maybe it´s a subliminal connection to immortality.
The men who first carried the stone and began to build, build build. What were they thinking about? The end result or the process of getting there?
And then I think about death and how it seems to carry us toward it with such gravitational pull, you´d think it was the moon. The Americans were the first to get there, at least they claim to be. But there´s still speculation of conspiracy.
What are we racing for? Tomorrow, tomorrow, there´s always tomorrow. Shut the fuck up, Annie. I need my today like books to read, to carry the weight of empty space in my head. I need time to organize.
I´ll be 42 at the estimated time of Sagrada Familia´s completion. Will I feel complete then? Will I have obtained all I needed to so I can just sit and be alive rather than ache for progress?
Then it dawned on me those men probably weren´t thinking about how they´d never live to see the day that building was built. And Gaudi probably did drugs because he liked them.
Pîctures to come later.