Life is sitting at the edge of burning out and the fear of not living enough is crippling it.
Why is it that we tend to realize the value of something only when it starts running away from us? Why don’t we love before the remorse of not being able to love enough endangers our existence? Why do we insanely pursue the world while a colossal conglomeration of several parallel universes lives within us?
Age is a number as people claim it to be but I believe that it is much more than what meets the eye. It is the collective experiences of our living and dying each day that is our age. It is our disappointments and happiness which comprises our age. It is the accomplishments and the box of unfulfilled dreams that is age. It is naivety and brevity that is age. It is vague and clarity that is age. It is not just black and white but grey, that is age. It is the love for the moon and the ecstasy of dawn that is age. It is to live in the present and to cherish planning for the future that is age. It is loving and unloving that is age. It is connecting and unconnnecting, believing and unbelieving, learning and unlearning, that is age. It is not merely a few possibilities we could see but a whole new stupendous level of probabilities that is age. It is love for others and the love for oneself that is age. It is realizing that you are enough and relying heavily on others that is age. It is much more than what you could contain in your words, thoughts, and actions, which is age.
And before you are worn out, before life begins to age truly, when you are inching closer to the ultimatum of your life sentence, before your time on the earth ceases to exist, Live! Live more than you think of, live more than you could even imagine of, live more than you have learned of, live life more than the death could ever live!