Yesterday I got a good laugh when I opened my mail, as I received a document that I had ordered for some student grant application which stated my current status to be "alive". I'm glad that's been cleared now and made official. Anyway, as I was granted a life yesterday, I thought why not help someone hold onto theirs today. So, I went to donate blood, which was a nice experience just like the last five times I've done it, though I'm always questioning my decision when they take out the needle. However, as the recent theme has been living, I started to wonder what it really means. I am breathing, thinking, speaking and moving as do all the other people walking on this earth, but what does it really mean to be alive?
Repeating a day after another according to a routine is not the answer. Not even when the activities change, there could still be something missing. Writing it down, being organized and having a schedule might make it easier, but you go to bed left with a feeling of emptiness, a silent restlessness. Did I live today, did I feel one with the universe?
We sat down, drank way too many cups of tea and talked about life and love, trying to solve the mystery of existence.
We stayed up all night talking when we were really tired but did not want to break the magic, waste the moment.
We finished a day of hard work, looked up and were greeted by a billion lights.
I let it in, I let the feelings fill me up and I smiled, pure and lost for words.
That's when I've lived. I've lived in many other moments, too, but of the 21 years I've existed I'm afraid I haven't lived quite as many. All I can do is to remind myself to live at least one, tiny moment every single day. Because if I live every day, I must be alive, right?
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