Sharp Knife of A Short Life
[ENTRY 63..✍️]
I knew someone. He was very promising. He had all his dreams and life figured out. He had ambitions, plans, and was on the way there to reach them, setting aside minute things that made him happy, the little things in life because he was convinced to work hard. As if you can only relax once you've finally reached your goals.. Or for some people, the goals set for them. He was smart, handsome, and a law student. He loved a girl, but he didn't do anything about it. He couldn't do anything about it. Not yet. He had to focus on his studies because having a girlfriend would only distract him. And he couldn't allow himself to be distracted. He was only seventeen but he made sure not to waste time.
And then one day, he just died.
All that effort for nothing. All the hard work, the vision for his future, the setting aside of happiness to only enjoy them once you've reached the finish line towards success..
Bullshit.
Life has another finish line. And it doesn't choose people. It doesn't care about your dreams, your plans, your age, what you've accomplished, nor what you're waiting for. Death can happen anytime and to anyone.
So don't tell me I'm not allowed to be happy now by doing all these things you call irrelevant.
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