June 14: A Day of Enlightenment

If I live to be a hundred years old, what is that really? I mean, compared to the world, a hundred years is nothing at all. Nothing.

The world continues living as though it has all the time it needs and more, because, honestly, it does.

I don't have the time of the world, and when my time runs out, well, so do I. I'm 15 years old. I can't wait to be old enough to love someone, and to grow and change. But when I get there, there's no turning back. That much of my time is wasted, and there's nothing I can do about it. I won't ever be able to get it back.

I thought of myself as a women of age, old and gray, wishing and hoping for just one more breath because when it's gone, so am I. Forever.

What if I died tomorrow? It makes you realize how lucky you are. Each day ends with a, "Gee, I lucked out. I'm not dead yet." And what if you do? Death isn't planned; it's not expected. What if my life were to just end right now. What have I accomplished? Well, nothing of much importance, because as you know, youth tends to save its greatness for its future. We are the future generation. It's not fair. All of my dreams and hopes and feelings for my lifetime would be lost for a thousand more.

We believe that we will live. We believe that we will age, and we wait on it. We have faith in ourselves and believe that life is eternal. Oh, how wrong we are.

Life is a minute to the world. Just a minute. A hundred years to its millions. Nothing. Your alive for a minute, and your dead for eternity.

They say live each day as though it were your last; I ask, "How?"