I always look at the old people and wonder, how did they do it? How do they wake up every day and chose to love? They've seen it all. They've lost their parents, their siblings, their spouses yet they continue to live despite all. Where does the courage come from? Do they cry themselves to sleep every night? Are they really alive or just skin and flesh grieving. This makes me ponder isn't death the most selfish thing above all? People just don't wake up one day, leaving everyone behind. We pray for the long life of our loved ones but isn't it just a way to save ourselves from the sadness of their loss? What if the ones who die go to a better place? Or they steep down to a deep slumber of peace? "It's just life, It'll be over before you know." This line from Five Feet Apart have been imprinted on my mind like a stroke of a stick on the wet clay. But do we actually fear the end of our own life or do we want to prolong it so that our loved ones won't have to suffer from pain? We've been told to live our life to the fullest but are we even living for ourselves? What is the point of life anyway? We're running till the sweet release of death hits us. We celebrate our birthday, we celebrate each year we get closer to death. Isn't it the biggest irony? But what is grief actually about? When we already know the end then why do we keep running away from it? If we know what's gonna happen then shouldn't we spend our time preparing ourselves for it? It is life you gotta live it big and long but is long life really an accomplishment or biggest sin?
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