I will read A Handbook for My Lover after I finish this last book. I will clear out my shelves and organize everything on a weekend. I will make that DIY that I have been dying to make this Sunday. I will go meet her ASAP. I will send that text I should have sent last month. I will organize my DSLR photos and figure out how to upload them to Instagram. I will figure out how to light paint. I will comment on those blogs I have been stalking to show my appreciation of their work. I will post all the pictures I have collected for the blog Facebook page. I will lose those extra pounds by end of 2016. I will start eating those goddamn fruits before they go bad. I will try those one-pot recipes for dinner soon. I will reinstall Blur and play better this time. I will start writing and reading one page before I sleep like I used to. I will start using all my beautiful notebooks.
I could go on. You get the idea.
On a bright Sunday morning, friend was making me a nice little breakfast (yeah, she be awesome like that), when we got to somehow talking about health and disease (because of my penchant for the morbid, I'm sure). And then, for some reason, I had this very mainstream realization that human life is so fragile. We plan for days, months, years, lifetimes in advance but fail to realize that we may not have that much time to live. I could be here today and gone tomorrow and when I'm gone, all that will be left is a mile-long wishlist and the stark realization that I didn't really do anything that I really wanted to. Not just the grandiose plans of backpacking through Aztec ruins and finding Reichenbach falls, but even the small plans of putting up my chevron painting and learning how to manipulate light with the camera lens.
And how is that a fulfilling life? Buying a house or owning a car or having a walk-in closet have never been my goals, stability shenanigans are not working for me. I'd rather measure the quality of my life through my feelings: the times I have felt content and accomplished and productive. And smiled and laughed so hard, my cheeks and tummy hurt or been so overwhelmed, I teared up (it doesn't take much for this part to happen, apparently).
Someone said we will not remember what we did or said but we will always remember what we felt (or a version of this). And I have been getting stuck in a constant loop of "where did the week go? where did the year go?" So I have decided to just stop focusing on the goals that float tantalizingly at a vague point in the future (to achieve which, I have been going around in circles) and making myself feel all the best things (and by association, get a whole load of shit done).
Sounds like a plan? Kthen.
P.S: This is NOT an excuse to do stupid things and say YOLO. Just clarifying -_-
