There was a time when the world was beautiful.
When my biggest fear was growing up, and getting older, and getting wrinkles.
That was the time without worry. Where I didn’t have to look over my shoulder, and wonder. Or even care.
I was a free bird, flowing in the wind.
Allowing gravity to take affect on me and my life. Free will guided me, and fate drew me closer.
Destiny was the light at the end of the tunnel, and the path that I took to get there was open and rugged. Full of mistakes, and broken promises, but filled with desire and experiences. Shaping me into a silhouette of a life well prospered. Well lived. A life of love.
I have forgotten all of that now. I have grown to harness worry, and responsibility. A life guarded and stuck. A life with lack of color or noise. Black and white, and on mute.
This is the life of society, the life of the rich. But what are riches when there is no color? What is life without sound? Without feeling? Without hope?
The life that I once lived has left me with envy. With a pressing and dire need to return. A life impoverished is a life worth living. It is a life with meaning. With substance. It is the life that gave me life.
I feel like I’m dying inside. Each and every day that I stay in my current bubble of routine. I want to break free, and travel back to the life that gave me breath, that gave me soul, that gave me pain. It was a life of riches. Of true riches. I have never more rich in my entire time on this earth than I was when I was poor.
That is the life that I must to return to, and that I must live by. It is the wonderful life of freedom from which the great saying came. Carpe Diem. Seize the Day.