Okay, so I just uncovered an old poem I wrote back in high school. Damn. It’s fucking horrible and hella embarrassing. At first I thought it wasn’t mine since the handwriting was off, but reading it, I faintly remember bits and pieces of the memory.
Fuck, was this the kind of person I was even back then?? Damn.
Anyway, without further ado, here’s the poem:
Woke up at around 2:30 AM once again, but this time, I wasn’t so sure if I’d attend the training. I went online for a while to check if my other classmates would attend and, to my delight, they weren’t attending. So, I went back to sleep and had a good night’s rest. In a blink of an eye, I find myself in the immersion area enjoying the chicken my mother cooked for us. The other immersionists were also there and we were having fun chatting and bonding with one another. After quite some time, a white light starts piercing my field of vision. I opened my eyes and I find myself back in my room. It’s morning already and everything I saw and experience for what seemed like the past few hours were nothing but just a dream!
The thought of each and every person having their own personal life story and significance in the grander scheme of things is, in itself, mind-blowing. It’s almost beyond comprehension to imagine how everyone is connected and has their own purpose in life. More often than not, there’s just so many people around us that it’s hard to see that the world doesn’t just revolve around, well, us. That each and everyone has a soul of their own, and that they have their own dreams, aspirations, history, background—their own personal life story. Trying to grasp that in all its grandness and majesty is truly awe inspiring. The world, and the people living in it, is just simply awesome.
The moment we were conceived in the womb, the clock started ticking. The count down to our deaths began, and with death an ever present possibility in each and every second, do we live each day as if it were our last?