Objects are what endeavour to persist in time. The sum of what they are is here and now, the past is immaterial and as for the future they can only lose by decay, destruction or transformation into something else. This is not the case with anything whose seat is in life or in consciousness, such things or matters are continually becoming and whatever they are now is only an adumbration of what they have yet to become. The self, in particular, is not, but is always still to be. Perhaps the forms it currently throws off are nothing like what is yet to show itself. Everything that is latent awaits its moment of actuality, even every fault and crack in its forms. Death is the point of fulfilled becoming.