Deteriorating

I think there are two ways of looking at life and maybe one is that you are born a giant flawless kingdom. then as you live and grow it gets worn and chipped away and dissolves into nothing until you die or what have you. the second, being you are born a clean palette and as you age and grow and mature you build a giant magnificent structure perfect in your own way and you die accomplished and complete. several things have in fact made me trust the first notion, and though once I believed I was building and creating, it is now clear pieces are withering and crumbling. this is not to say that this idea is the utmost depressing, for perhaps in all my realizations and reflections I know now that I indefinitely want nothing here to remain.