We always live in a hurry.

I let each day pass fleetingly. Maybe it's because I want these useless seconds to end so that I could go on with what I am actually supposed to be or to do - like getting a more profound job, traveling around the world freely without any hold-back and doubts, and falling intensely but sincerely in love with the woman I would indefinitely keep. When a moment or a day passes in which I do not get to experience these (finally), I see those as meaningless periods of time I carelessly spent that I could never get back. Considering everything, it is an unhappy thought.

Oftentimes we get this feeling that we are chasing something, right? We always think that the moment, the right now, is something that will just have to pass to give way to another moment, another right now, which we continuously assume would carry more meaning, or more weight, than what is actually happening. Either we tend to act in a way that would make us seemingly be able to fast forward the current, or lean towards waiting for whatever is next - whichever we pick, though, it would always end up exhausting us. We keep ourselves busy with trying to rush through everything, and with it a strange utter desire for something to.. happen.

It is one sad truth, and one unhappy thought. It is how people eventually lose their selves, their youth, their life, their stories; and the stories they have yet to tell.

Slow down.


The image.