What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened.
— T.S. Eliot
What if we’d imagine our life as a rhombus?
We start from the point, when we are born. Then, we have virtually limitless opportunities in live, it’s completely unpredictable. But the oder we become, the less opportunities we have, less and less. And the final point is also quite very predictable, it’s death.
Point to one end, which is always present.