…what do I type. What are you supposed to say when you find you have a terminal illness and it’s only a matter of time?
Time is running out. It’s running out and there’s nothing any little human can do about it. Nothing.
Guys, I’m dying. I know my life is short. I never thought it’d be this short, but no one ever does, right? What do you even do when you know you’re going to die? Hold onto every moment and try to make it count, but how do you do that?
I’m dying. You’re dying too. Because we all have this terminal illness that comes with being human. We all have this thing coming for us called Death, and it’s inevitable. We’re all dying. What are you going to do about it?
Ignore it. Not take this seriously. Because death doesn’t come just like that – oh wait, it does. Oops. And you only realize it can come at any moment when a real terminal illness is diagnosed, or your car is laying trashed in the middle of the road, or you feel the building crumbling underneath your feet as its very foundations are shaken to the core. Get it? Anyone could point their gun at you at any time. You could fall and be gone just like that.
Do you really understand that you could die at any moment?
Please do. Because that’s when you start to live seriously. That’s when you have your priorities straight. For once.
And please don’t just take this as a joke, because you only die with regret if you didn’t live like you were dying. When it comes to it, what are you really living for? What do you think your short little life is about? How slowly do you think the time really passes by?
Thanks. Because those who are actually dying right now will be screaming at you to make your life count, because they know. They know. They want you to know, too. The demons don’t.