Dear World – Life

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Dear World.

It’s really weird sometimes.

You know, the fascinating thing where the bang of the big variety bung (that is the past tense of bang, right?) and all its consequences.

And now, nearly years after the Earth was created (by me, on Microsoft Paint), we humans are walking, swimming and flying all around this planet, just doing our collective thing to pass the time between us being sent out of our mothers and into the grave.

And that’s the thought that wonders me from time to time. Not the thought of seeing someone and thinking “you were once inside your mother”, but the thought of us all being in the same place at once.

Sometimes, on days where the wind chill factor is less than my grey hair count, I look around and think that we are all here. Well, everyone in the vicinity of the thought is there, but I mean in the context of generations.

No matter how hard you find thinking about it, we are decaying organisms born to die. Our parents give us the gift of life and the burden of death all in one bundle of skin and bones.

And in those seconds of me realising this, it makes me want to do more with my life. You know the thing, traveling the world in search of that perfect sunrise, writing songs where has no real meaning but someone finds meaning in there somewhere, creating videos that are watched all over the world and the like.

And then, something happens. The ringing of a phone, the train stopping at its platform. And then you are back to the monotony of life, with no vision in mind on how to change things in the present day to do all the things you were thinking about in that brief moment.

It’s not that I’m unhappy with my life, by no means. I have a relatively easy life. I wake up, spend a few minutes or hours playing video games, head into work or university, come home, sleep and repeat the whole thing over and over. Maybe, I will update my social networking profiles. Maybe I will go downstairs and talk to my dog about the political situation in Nepal.

But with that typed in haste, I really have nothing of worth to worry about, not compared to other people. I don’t have the cold breath of oppression upon the back of my neck or the worry that someone dear to me will suffer for no reason but for fate’s twisted plans.

And even now, writing this while American Dad’s on in the background on a Sunday night because I always write these things on the end of the weekend, I still wonder how I can begin the road to my ambitions, even though they are not my true ones.

And yes, I know, this isn’t informative, or intelligent, or even interesting. It’s just some person, typing words down in a basic text editor without thinking about what exactly is being created in said text editor, with no definition in the words, no promise of a better tomorrow or a shortcut to our personal salvation.

It cannot be helped. Every one must have one day where they stare at the horizon and finally admit to themselves two things. The first thing is that we need to realise the difference between want, need and ambition. The second is that we will die, and those who deny their fate do not deserve the title of human.

Probably.

I thank ye, world.

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