Mortals.

Whether we'd like to admit or not, in the end, we're just mortals. Destined for greatness but designed to die.

I guess I still haven't reach that age when I truly begin to contemplate my own mortality; when, where, how, who and all the big questions. But these few days of cold solitude led me thinking - what if I just hit the end the road, right here and now? Take two fingers and pinch out the flame, in a way of saying.

Did I do what I really wanted? Did I achieve what I set out to do? Am I on the right track? All these questions left unanswered as I laid lifeless on bed, sweating my veins out, asking an unseen deity what have I done to deserve such suffering. Like sifting sands, they come and go as the wind blows and I clean forgot the answers, if any.

We're all going to die one day. How do we make it, before we checkout? I guess it just makes sense that nothing really matters, because in the end we all just return to the singularity, the point where we didn't existed in the first place, eventually forgotten by the ravages of time. Everything we work now is for naught then?

If it is so, then life is itself life's greatest joke but I refuse to see it so because we live in the present and that makes whatever we choose to do now matters the most to us. Of course there will always be the past to dwell on and the future to worry about but that's another post for another time of self reflecting and much more, so much more.