Events in the past week have really put things into perspective for me. It is a known fact that we, as human beings, have a round trip ticket, one in which the return date is unknown. We get to come on this planet, to one day leave it as a character of humanity. With such ambiguity we are often left to wonder how in such short amount of time, any of our efforts we deem valiant will actually be of consequential value. I know I’m young. I understand that most individuals think their life begins at a certain moment of their life, when a dreamt vision becomes reality. For some, that is access to their first bank account, for others it is obtaining a dream job, but I really don’t share any such aspirations. I seek some type of truth, or verdict on life, that will tell me what my purpose is, and I desperately want that now. The Thoreau’s and Emerson’s of the world have already been granted a great facet of human history, and so any of our overlapping ideas will not have a lasting impact. I would never suppose that I carry the same extent of knowledge as such transcendental leaders, but I often find myself in a position of similar ideas, and therefore would feel them worth sharing. But even writing a book, or ten books, does not seem equatable to a grand purpose of living. I’m hoping that the answer to my question is not one found within the last breaths on Earth, rather through experience, which may be why older people seem to have a harder grasp on their ambitions and destinies. I get that at such an age of adolescence, a stubborn desire to know all things comes from blind thought. Yet born from this constant questioning is my continued belief that at any age curiosity should exist, as should acceptance of an individual’s knowledge, because an 80 year old praised for just a shit ton of wrinkles is not justified. I think 5 year olds who have something to say about life, are far more telling than they’re credited with.

now, rather later.

I desperately find myself praying sometimes (usually when I need something), yet I don’t believe in an actual god. I think I’m just hoping that there is promise to my life, and that someone is governing it with good intent. And as for a heaven, following my ideals, it serves to me as a comfort. Recent events have really stressed the importance of the unpredictability of walking the line between life and death, and with one slip a life stressed on the future is at loss to the present. I’m terrified that I’m missing something. Or that I’m not in the moment as much as I should be. It’s obviously a difficult gesture to appreciate life at every given moment, with the ordeals of school, but valuing the people in my life who have had positive impacts on me can be done everyday. When someone is gone suddenly the small things matter. Suddenly every little thing they did had immense meaning, and I hate to admit that it takes losing someone to really understand all these moments you’ve shared together, but truly that is what I have found to be true. I will now venture to reevaluate all I have, and all that I have overlooked. A purpose and an unspoken, yet prevalent, appreciation of the people closest to me are both equally desired participants on this enigmatic game of life.