Back when I was a kid, it made me sad to think I would never get enough time in a lifetime to listen to all the beautiful music the world had to offer, and that my ears would inevitably miss who knows how many worthwhile sounds.
In my fifteens, I was decided to dedicate my whole life to living some ten to fifty more years than the normal -if not becoming physically immortal of course-, so I would enjoy life as much as possible, since I didn't believe there was an existence after this one. Watching other people wasting their lives through religions and other things that clouded the goal of living more, just made me feel sad and tremendously worried about them. In any way, enjoying life as much as possible never meant for me that devaluated premise of carpe diem, but rather filling my path with a subtle, honest and peaceful density.
Today, I would give up as many decades of life as necessary if that sacrifice would make my life a denser one. I no longer see life valuable on itself, but on how it is appreciated, and so, more years of it don't mean anything on themselves. Living two more years of good life -because isnt life always good no matter what- is not better than living just one more year of good life. What's the real difference, when you wont be measuring how much you profited on it once you are dead? People might remember you for a whole extra year of things you shared with them, but eventually they will as well forget. What is so awesome in just a bit more of time with our senses opened?
Then I should be asking, what am I writing for? This is certainly not a suicidal note: I love life how it presents to me, I am in love with such a perfect nature that surrounds us all and how it performs its play in the setting my senses serve for it. It takes my breath away to see how some eyes meet sunsets overwhelmed by bright and yellow rays, while for others the Sun sleeps covered in red shades, and neverminding the color, both address to beauty on its pure form.
In my fifteens, I was decided to dedicate my whole life to living some ten to fifty more years than the normal -if not becoming physically immortal of course-, so I would enjoy life as much as possible, since I didn't believe there was an existence after this one. Watching other people wasting their lives through religions and other things that clouded the goal of living more, just made me feel sad and tremendously worried about them. In any way, enjoying life as much as possible never meant for me that devaluated premise of carpe diem, but rather filling my path with a subtle, honest and peaceful density.
Today, I would give up as many decades of life as necessary if that sacrifice would make my life a denser one. I no longer see life valuable on itself, but on how it is appreciated, and so, more years of it don't mean anything on themselves. Living two more years of good life -because isnt life always good no matter what- is not better than living just one more year of good life. What's the real difference, when you wont be measuring how much you profited on it once you are dead? People might remember you for a whole extra year of things you shared with them, but eventually they will as well forget. What is so awesome in just a bit more of time with our senses opened?
Then I should be asking, what am I writing for? This is certainly not a suicidal note: I love life how it presents to me, I am in love with such a perfect nature that surrounds us all and how it performs its play in the setting my senses serve for it. It takes my breath away to see how some eyes meet sunsets overwhelmed by bright and yellow rays, while for others the Sun sleeps covered in red shades, and neverminding the color, both address to beauty on its pure form.
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