I've always pictured Life, as strings of textile drawing us towards it, and every now and then a string breaks, ending life.
It's not a melodramatic picture, or a gothic vision. It's just that all through our lives, we search for something of a meaning, something to hold on to, something to justify our existence. This , I believe, is our objective.
Each one is searching for his or hers. They are very hard to find, and usually we are in a state of confusion or depression because of the inability to find it.
SUDDENLY, there's this moment when you are talking to someone, or reading or watching TV when you realize that my objective has been so close to me I couldn't see it. It's that moment when you feel the explosion of thoughts and feelings inside of you. When your brain has ceased to exist and only a vision lingers.
Silence instantly follows, and disbelief.
"Have I really found my objective?"
"Could it have been so easy?"