Figuring Things Out

I'm starting to miss my life as a student. I knew this feeling would come, but I didn't expect that it will come this soon. 

It just surprises me that I am starting to feel being an adult sucks at such an early age. Is this a normal thing to be feeling for a guy my age? 

I am feeling that working is not my thing. But if I don't work, how can I continue living? I am at the stage where I thought I would've known what I want by now, but surprise, surprise! I'm still searching for myself. The worst thing is I feel like I am going no where, like I am going around in circles. 

I want freedom again- that feeling of being in control of your life, doing absolutely anything you like, going anywhere you like, staying up as late as you want, and waking up as late as you want. Being an adult now does not carry that title well. Everything has its limits. You can't do anything you want; unless you're a fucking rich person who doesn't have to work for a single day of your life. But even rich adults have responsibilities and limited amount of freedom.

I want my long holidays. I want my endless whines of "I'm bored", "Stupid assignments!", "I'm broke!". But I'm still broke; I guess I have that working out for me at least. I want to be home.

I guess what separates adulthood and being a student is the responsibility: if you screw up your grades, you're just screwing yourself up, but if you screw your work, you're screwing everyone else. That's eff-up true.

When I was a kid I thought being an adult was the shiz, and now it's just shiz-less because face it, if you wake up everyday doing something you half-like or worse, hate, then your life will turn out to be crap. Mood swings are getting more constant, and you become more needy on people that you have grown attached to. 

There's this vast emptiness that needs to be filled. Filled with what? I am still struggling to find that out because I really don't wanna go without living a fulfilling life, without figuring my life.

p.s: And I hope this phase goes away.

Tell Me I'll Make It.

I am typing this as I am trying (desperately) to keep my eyes open. The heavy rain has stopped, but the sky is still gloomy.

And I hate how the weather can accurately describe how I am feeling right now.

I am still searching for that break- to become a writer, and the search so far has not bear fruit. This is a lame sentence right? I don't think I am cut out to become a writer. I have become empty, desperate and on the verge of crying, waiting for calls from perspective publishing companies or any writer positions that I have applied for.

None have called back. Well, there was this report writing gig for a feng-shui company but she has not called yet. It is Monday and I went for the interview last week and no, they haven't called. So I guess it is another no.

I have an interview with Zalora tomorrow for a writer's position too; well, something like that. It is more technical in a sense but I hope I get it. Hope is an understatement as many employers have decided to shoot me down. I'm kinda seeing this Zalora thing as a last hope, the only light at the end of the tunnel after a hiatus of emails from companies I applied for.

I can't even begin to tell you how badly I want another job- one that is writing related. It is not the glamour I'm chasing, nor the salary (well I kinda am chasing the salary. Life's tough without money now), I just want satisfaction, and fulfillment.

I don't know what's God's plans for me but I hope somewhere down the line, my future in the writing industry opens up.

Oh look, the sky's beginning to really clear up. 

p.s: Hoping, wishing and praying.

What Do I Want?

Then life slides into its tenth month of the year.

I'm turning 23 next month if God wills it. 

So far, going into the third month on the job, I already miss my friends. I feel nostalgic and melancholy at night thinking about the past, being carefree and random with them. 

Life now has become routine. Such an insatiable appetite to live everyday the same way, day in, day out, seeing the same faces and doing the same thing over, and over again. It has become dull and I yearn to find something else to do, and escape from the mundane-ism that is life now.

I have become very restless and anxious because I know somehow or rather that I am not doing what I have pictured myself doing. I know it is unfair for me to say these things, and I should not be feeling this way; I am young and I have a few steps to go but already I feel unfulfilled. 

The hardest question I have ever faced these few months is, "What do you want actually?" and this was asked by a lady who interviewed me for a writing stint in a company.

I was stumped. 

And every single time the question resonates in my head, I get the same reaction from myself.

p.s: 2014 in 2 months. 

Wake Up.

Have you ever wondered why you choose to wake up every single morning and continue doing something that you dislike or even hate?

I used to not have those thoughts because the only thing worth waking up early in the morning for were morning classes with my friends, knowing very well that I could go back home after those classes and crash on my bed again. Now I have a different kind of morning.

I would wake up early in the morning, depending on how motivated I am for work. Sometimes I feel heavy; the kind of heaviness where you just want to lay in bed for as long as you can. But this heaviness has been dragging me far longer than I thought it would, that I begin to wonder why I wake up every morning for.

Not that I am not thankful for being given another day to live, but sometimes I do wish I would wake up doing something I love. It is a different sort of feeling knowing that once you wake up one day, that that particular day would be something different special. It is a different feeling waking up every morning to do something that you love. 

However, although there are times when I feel super demotivated to go on with my daily routines, I would always put in mind the faces of people that I love, the things that I want to own and the places I want to go, and I would drag my lazy arse out of my bed.

I love my job, I love my job, I love my job.

p.s: I love my life.

11 Things Being an Adult Are Not.

1. Adults are the most mature people that have ever, ever existed.

2. We can spend on anything we want because we have money.

3. Friday night is party night!

4. It is easier to make friends.

5. Life becomes relatively easier to manage.

6. We will meet our soul-mates somewhere down the line. 

7. Relationships are more simple and easier to manage.

8. We will always have energy for work and fun.

9. We become more sensitive.

10. We learn more from our experiences and not repeat mistakes.

11. We have figured out the meaning of "life".

Ideas Come to Me!

It is indeed frustrating when one is not able to update one's blog with interesting posts. 

It is highly regrettable that no inspiration has come either in the form of reality nor fantasy. It is also quite sad when there is inspiration, one cannot put the thoughts and ideas into an interesting and highly personal point of view.

It is getting tiring to continue to stare at an empty blog post with nothing to talk about. 

There are things to be talked about, but to put them into perspective- that's the hard part.

p.s: I don't want to run out of passion.

Eyes.

The other day I was in a train on my way to work when in came this girl, black tudung and purple baju kurung. She sat opposite me. I did not see anything unusual or remarkable about her except when I started staring at her eyes.

She had the saddest looking eyes I've ever seen. It was as if I could feel the pain she felt, whatever the causes of her pain may be. She was staring at everyone else, pitifully and I could not help but feel a sense of heartache just by looking at her looking at other people.

Her eyes were remarkably sad and I wanted to ask her what she was going through but I just sat there looking at her eyes and I chocked a bit. I thought of myself and wondered if my eyes gave out the same sort of sadness and pain like hers did. 

I began to think of the times when I though my life was tough when clearly others are going through harder and more difficult time than I. I complain ceaselessly, bitch and moan about my so called "tough" life but when in fact other people actually are going through crap every single day. 

I got off the train when I reached my stop, but I could not stop thinking about the girl with the painful eyes. She did not know it, eventhough the girl did not utter a single word to me, she had taught me about life.

September.

Oh hello September. 

I'm welcoming you with open arms.

p.s: 3 more months to 2014

C'est La Vie

I think part of my dream has come true:

Working somewhere in the big city, riding the train to and fro from home, surrounded by strangers and dark circles under my eyes. I am an editor at a national television company. I am almost broke but I am excited that I am about to receive my first official pay-check as a working adult. But, I would only have just enough to barely survive for a month. But that's a part as being an adult who comes from an average, low-income family.

I like to think of myself as a young, struggling adult who is about to dive into something un-familiar and challenging, and at the same time loving and living life, and going through 'complex' issues ranging from physical to emotional and even spiritual.

That is life right? It is. It is life copying art. Because you know why? I would put in my earphones and blast music into my ears and imagine I am the main character of a tv series whose life is always very interesting to watch. The interesting part is subjective by the way. 

But seriously, I am about 35% living my dream. The next 65% would require to be in New York, or would require me to publish articles that people, the general people, would actually read and enjoy, and show my credibility as a writer. 

But you cannot have everything in life right? Well, actually, not everyone can have that privilege. I am unfortunately, one of those under-privileged few- depending on how you see my life, and depending on how I myself perceive my life.

Is everything going the way I want it? Quite. But it can be better; it can always be better.


p.s: Growing in every direction (hopefully)

Being an Adult

I think as you grow up, you will start realising things are not always how you would imagine them to be. You would probably want to go back into a cocoon where everything is safe and the only thing you are afraid of is stepping outside into the real world.

It is a daunting process, stepping into the real world. When I was a kid, I used to think that adults had it all figured out. They know all the things about life that kids do not know of. They have all the money in the world to buy stuff that they want and they can go anywhere they want and have freedom to do anything they want- and kids love that. I loved that; I fell for that lie.

I am 23 this year and I do not think that I have my life figured out just yet. I live by going through each day, stepping on egg shells hoping that I would not screw up. I am almost broke and everything that I want to have is stored on an invisible list I have created in my head. I do not have as much freedom as I thought I would. Sure I would have the freedom to choose whatever and however I live my life, but I still have issues with choosing the way I want to lead my life. Sure, freedom is of abundance, but too much freedom can kill you.

So what about being an adult is right? When can we be sure that we have grown up right? 

There is no definite answer but most would choose that the true mark of an adult is when you have a stable job, a stable income, a stable family- a stable life basically. But even stability does not mean that you have made a bench-mark in the adult world. Stable people screw up too. But of course, who doesn't? Nobody's perfect.

What I am trying to say here is adulthood is not as fun as it seems. It is a whole lot of responsibilities, a whole lot of realisations and a whole lot of growing up. One minute you are feeling young, the next you crumble and fall to the floor, too tired to move after a long day's work.

Being an adult is like being a kid- you wake up, you play (homework for kids and work for adults), you get paid (food when you were kids, money as adults), nap time, and sleep and the cycle continues; the difference is as kids, you have less responsibilities.

So I ask you, when you have responsibilities and priorities, where is the freedom that comes with being adults come from?

p.s: A grown up kid, I am.

Adulthood

When I was a kid, I did not dream of becoming an adult. I sorta just grew into my role, year by year. I did not realise, as I grew older, the load and responsibilities, the choices that I would have to make when being an adult. I just lived life as it went.

Being an adult is a great difficulty. You go through life chasing things and before you know it, time stops and it is the end. You chase life for the sake of getting things that you WANT and in the process, losing things that you NEED. 

For some people, I think being an adult means freedom from whatever it is they are fighting for freedom from. For me, it is constrictions and restrictions. It is funny to think that a few years ago I thought being an adult meant more freedom, but freedom from what exactly?

(I have this sudden realisation that I will not be free from anything in this life.)

I think most young kids trying to venture into the adult world do not know what they are going to get themselves into. Heck I did not know what I was getting myself into. There is maybe a need for kids to possess a manual of life about the pros and cons of being an adult. 

But life is life. You choose to see what you choose to see- what you choose to believe. Some people have a blast being an adult. Some people just want to go back to their glory days, even if their glory days were when they were five, eating vanilla ice-cream at a park with mum. 

What I am trying to point out is that being an adult is not what it's cut out to be. You end up having to make your own way, be responsible for yourself and in the process, hopefully, you will not lose yourself. (I am saying this as a reminder to myself.)

Everyone's goal in life should be to achieve happiness. But after all, happiness is subjective. 

p.s: And never lose sight of who you truly are.

Heads and Tails

"Heads we get married, tails we break up." Jake said in a cool tone. He was always cool, like the night's weather. He was cool, but deep inside, his heart was beating; fast. He took out a quarter from his pocket and started to hold it in his palm.

"Is this legit?" Abby asked and raised an eyebrow. Abby was taken aback by Jake's dare. 

"Why? Are you scared?" Jake replied, trying to shield his own nervousness.

"No. I just think it's ridiculous." Abby said, scoffing.

"It's not ridiculous. I think it's different and fun. Alright here we go." Jake was ready to toss the coin and he hoped that his knowledge about Abby- after being with her for so long- that his plan will go on as he had planned. 

"Wait!" said Abby. "I don't want you to propose to me like this. I mean not like this." Abby said with a sad look on her face. "I have this different idea of proposals. I mean, not like this. You know me right? I want something romantic, conventional."

"So you want to get married with me?" Jake's eyes lighted up. His plan seemed to work.

"Yes. I do. I mean why not? Oh shit. That's not a good reply." Abby could feel her cheeks were burning red and she started to laugh nervously because she was nervous- nervous and embarrassed at the same time. 

"You sure?" Jake asked her. "You, want to marry me?"

"Of course I do... I..." Abby stopped mid-sentence. She was trying to find the right words to tell him how she felt for him all these while but she could not find the right words. "I love you." was all she could say. Jake nodded and smiled. Abby continued, "And I don't want to be proposed to like this. I mean, what if we get tails and then we have to break up? I'm superstitious. You know that. I just want to be proposed like other people. You know, the normal, conventional way."

"You mean propose to you like this?" Jake got down on one knee and took out a ring box from his blazer pocket and placed the coin back in the pocket. He, like Abby, was waiting for the perfect time to ask for her hand in marriage. He was unsure what Abby really felt towards him; until tonight. "Abby Thompson, here I am bending on my knee, asking for your hand in marriage. Do you want to? I mean, get married with me?"

Abby was stunned and tears welled in her eyes."Oh my God Jake. I am going to be your wife!" Jake smiled at her and put the ring on her finger. 

Jake got up and kissed her softly on the lips. "We're going to be happy. I can feel it."

"I have never been happier with anyone else other than you." Abby said, and snuggled herself safely in his arms. Jake pulled her closer to him. "Hey, want to see the coin?" Jake pulled the coin out from his pocket and showed it to Abby. 

"Both heads."

p.s: I hope I win. Haha

Fashion Categories

Which category do you belong to?

Designer Whores:

Covered from head-to-toe with designer items, these people are the envy of everyone around them for being able to get their hands on designer items. What the items are and how the items look like are secondary; the main focus is that the items are designer-wear and that it is of utmost importance for designer-obsessed stylistas to have them. They are also a walking advert for designers, showcasing the latest trends off the runway.

Brands Victim:

Brand-conscious people are further sub-categorized into two divisions: Ones With Money, and Ones Without. Now, the Ones With Money do not have much trouble in trying to maintain their brand-conscious status quo but the Ones Without have a huge difficulty. The Ones Without love brands, but could not afford most of the brands they love so they will move to the next closest thing, fake items.

Fakers:

These are the ones who sport designer handbags from China, shades from Vietnam and clothes from Thailand. They are people who are desperately trying to climb up the social ladder by showing off things that they cannot possibly own.

Fashion Changer:

Changing the face of the fashion industry, these people have become trend-setters; mixing the old with the new, the rare with the common, a sight for sore eyes for some, genius for some, annoying for some, and just plain artistic for some. They are bringing street style onto a whole different level.

I-Look-Good-In-Anything:

Some people are just gifted in a sense that they could put anything on them and they could still make the entire outfit work. It takes nothing more than just good ol' plain t-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans to make them look good and still you would think that their whole look looks like a million bucks. This is truly a gift.

The Pleasers:

Sight for sore-eyes when you see someone with a varsity jacket or a trench coat walking outside a mall when it is blazing hot. Basically people who are in this category are wearing things that they have at the wrong place, at the wrong time, trying to please the wrong crowd. Fashion is all about being effortlessly cool and chic. Trying too hard to impress spoils the fun.

The Trend-Setters:

Not everyone can become trend-setters. It takes a big deal of courage, creativity (and recycling of ideas) to become a trend setter. The people in this category are the ones who will mold and shape the face of the industry for the next year or so, creating avenues for people to copy paste their ideas so that the trend can become widespread.

The Pre-Historics:

Time seems to go into a warp zone when it comes to their clothing. They cling on to bell-bottom pants, neon-coloured eye shadows and lipsticks and baggy clothes from the 90's because they seem to think that fashion have not budged since their long gone era. Why feel the need to dress up when they have passed their prime time?

p.s: This is sucky. 

Writer Wannabe

I tell everyone that I want to become a writer. I tell them that I want to write for a living. I dream of becoming a writer, living the life of typing life into words. That is all I want to be now. I just want to write, and write, and write.

The problem is: I am not as inspired as I should be. 

I feel like I am lying to people when I say I want to become a writer. I feel like I am lying to myself. What if I cannot cope with becoming a writer? What if I am not good enough to write about things that people read about? 

I think insecurity is part of becoming a writer. Funny, I have this mental and emotional picture in my head of what a writer should be like- like characters from movies and series that I watch and those characters are what I want to be like; a writer like them. 

I tell people I want to become a writer but I do not even know what I will be writing about. A journalist? A story-teller? A scriptwriter? I do not know but all I want to do is write.

I tell people I want to become a writer- but I am not convinced enough that I could. 

But a boy can dream, a boy can dream.

p.s: Write for a living. 

A New Chapter.

She was sitting alone on a bench at the park while waiting for the sun to set. The bench was her favorite place to unwind after every shitty day. She would be there waiting for the sun to set even hours before the sun would go down. She loved seeing the people passing through her: old couples reminiscing about younger years, young lovers walking hand in hand, children playing and rolling on the grass, and single people-like her- who were there just to breathe in some fresh air after a hard day's work

People were beginning to leave as the sky got darker. Chattering and laughter were replaced with an eerie sense of calmness and peace. She loved the quietness; part of the reason why she was always at the park at this hour. She was just beginning to appreciate the peace when she heard footsteps coming towards her. She was perplexed that there was someone else at this hour approaching her. Fearing danger, she grabbed a pepper spray and turned around, and she saw him. His smile was recognisable-to her at least- from space. She replied the smile and turned her back against him and placed the pepper spray back into her bag. He came and sat next to her.

"Been here long?" he asked innocently. Oh that smile, God, I wish I could just kiss him there and then she thought to herself. Instead, she replied,

"No, not really."

"So, what are you doing here?" he asked again with a sweet smile that could cause a toothache. His hair was perfect. His eyes were drilling into her soul, causing massive jolts of electricity coursing through her veins.

"Just waiting for the sun to set." She replied him. She was trying to act cool but she felt like she was failing. She felt her cheeks were burning and she could hear her heart beating against her chest. She was trying not to smile but she could not help but smile. "What are YOU doing here?" She asked, nudging him.

"Same as you I guess. Am I intruding your space?" He asked and raised an eyebrow and smiled. Stop being so cute will you Tristan? God! Her thoughts screamed. He turned his gaze towards the horizon, as the sky's colour turned from bright blue to orange.

"No, not really. It's just that, I wasn't expecting anyone to be here, with me, to watch the sun set. I mean, I've always been here alone. Wait, who told you I'd be here?" She asked, now really curious as to whom would have told him of her whereabouts.

He turned towards her and said, "Sarah told me."

"Sarah told you? And why were you looking for me?" She asked him, now even more curious. She looked at him directly into his deep, blue-coloured eyes, almost drowning in them. 

"I just wanted to hangout. I tried calling you but I guess your phone died or something," he said while shrugging his shoulders

She rummaged through her bag to look for her phone. "Ahh shit. I'm sorry. Didn't notice it was dead."

"It's ok. I'm here now. That's all that matters," he said, and smiled. There was an awkward silence between her and him that she did not want to break. It was not a bad awkward silence, it was the nice one-the appropriate one- where you would not break the silence because the last thing said was too beautiful to be let go off too soon. They turned their gaze away from each other and looked at the horizon. Little by little, light was replaced by darkness.

She finally broke the silence.

"I came here today because I am scared of tomorrow. I am scared of facing new things in life. 5 years, and I've gotten so used to everything that I am scared to start anew. It's like, back to A again you know? 5 years of studying in uni and everything will be ending so soon and I don't know where I'm going to go, what I'm going to do. Other people are so sure about their lives, and here I am, little miss clueless. I don't like the unfamiliar. I don't like parting ways- I hate goodbyes. I'm going to miss everything here, even the things I hate. I'm going to miss wasting hours with friends doing nothing productive and just being young. I don't like being an adult. I... I'm scared." 

She did not know why she had told him all those things but she felt like she had to. She was too tired of bottling up her feelings and keeping them for herself. He looked at her calmly and listened intently to what she had said and she felt she was cared for. 

"I know how you feel. There's only one thing I can say to you. The sun sets, and the stars come out and then the sun comes out again. For every ending, there's always a beginning." 

He leaned towards her and kissed her on her lips. She replied his kiss and closed the gap between him and her. Five years of friendship with him and this was the moment she had waited for. He was right. 

For every ending, there is always a new beginning.

p.s: Don't fear the Unknown, embrace it; with courage.

Black Hole

I have not written anything in a while. It is not that I am uninspired, but it is just... I don't know what it is. Maybe it is pure laziness, or just pure carelessness, that I have neglected almost everything that I love doing. Growing up is not what it is cut out to be. You become emotionally attached to almost everything and you begin to lose focus of what is important in your life- at least for me. 

I keep thinking about the future and how when I look back at my life, that the things I am going through right now would not matter that much anymore. But how can I get myself into the future when I cannot even, or barely able, to go through my present state of being. It is illogical how I worry so much about the future but at the same time I am not doing anything to make my future what it is I have always been dreaming of.

My thoughts are scrambling but they are recurring thoughts; nothing new, nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary. I did think of a God-awesome poem that has a rhyme but it dissipated into thin air, leaving no trace for me to get it back. I think that is how my life is. One minute I am experiencing it and the next minute it is gone.

And it bothers me, bothers me, how I can let those moments slip by me, ignoring that any one of those days passed could have been my last. It is not that I do not appreciate my life, but it seems like I do not. That bothers me. It bothers me that people I hold dear most can disappear. It bothers me that I can disappear. I am not being philosophical but just being realistic. People come and go, whether you like it or not.

I am babbling. I wish things are much simpler than they are now. I cannot go on one day without feeling guilty for not accomplishing what I could have accomplished. I miss being a kid.

p.s: Simpler times, I miss you.

Lonely Death.

I would have said "I Love You",

but my tongue won't let me.

My heart went crazy,

my mind went berserk,

all screaming and shouting;

"Boy, you are an idiot!"

Blame my tongue, I said,

but how can I utter those words

to a beauty so refined, so classy;

to an angel, heaven sent

- when I am just merely a human,

craving for a companion

in the form of a sweet creature, a person

of your stature. 

So I decide to let you go- 

though you are not mine;

to find someone better

and let my heart die a lonely death.

p.s: Totally random, I swear.

Gone?

I told you I would not forget

our memories together

fresh from my mind

you were holding me in our sleep

entwined- like we would never let go

of each other;

I cannot erase your smile,

or the taste of your lips on mine

-or your soft skin like smooth silk

covering me from harm;

I have given you a piece of me

that I will never get back

though you are gone-

memories of you are here to stay:

torturing me sweetly night and day;

Though you are gone

memories of you are here to stay

accompanying me to sleep becoming

sweet dreams and nightmares

that I have to live with 

- for eternity

p.s: "I'll love you long after you're gone, gone gone.

Plans and Lists for the Future.

I want a stable job that I love doing, that I do not regret getting up every morning or going back home late for. I want to be able to go to places that I have always wanted: New York, New Zealand, London, Mecca etc. I want to go to an exotic island and just chill and relax all by myself, play with the waves, and stuff. I want to bungee jump and sky dive and snorkel.

I want to go to poverty stricken countries and make a difference; like giving them books, educate the kids, give them food and water or anything. I want to leave a mark on Earth. I want to be remembered and not just fade into oblivion. 

I need a house for myself. An apartment would be nice- a combination of Monica's apartment from Friends, Hey Arnold's room and the Charmed Ones' front door and the loft of Jess, Nick, Schmidt and Winston. My house will definitely have a reading space with books that I will either finish or spend halfway reading. A nice kitchen like Jamie Oliver's Naked Chef would be perfect. I love that kitchen. It is small but you still can move around and bake and stuff. I would like to have people over sometimes and just spend time with me so I would not feel too lonely. 

I will buy my family our own little place; with a nice porch and lawn and yard where my nieces and I can play ball, a huge kitchen like the one in Chef At Home where my mum and sisters can cook great food, a t.v room where my dad and I can hangout and watch Astro and a game room where my brothers and I can spend time playing FIFA or something. The house will be big where everyone of us can stay together; each of us will have our own spaces for us to rule. 

I want a Range Rover, or a Kelisa. I want a cute and playful cat that will not poop and pee everywhere. I want to be able to buy new clothes and new books every month. I want to be fit and have a body like the guys on my Tumblr. I want to be able to be confident and flirt around like nobody's business. I want to have a fashion blog where I would take pictures of random and stylish people.

I want to be able to afford the life that I want to- that I have been dreaming to have.

p.s: And someone to come home to, everyday. 

p.s.s: Thanks for the inspiration, Ikah. :)

Cloud Atlas.

"Our lives are not our own."

That is one of the many lines in David Mitchell's Cloud Atlas. For those of you who do not know what Cloud Atlas is it is basically a story of how our lives are inter-connected and intertwined with each other, how our actions affect those we come into contact with, present and future. The story is more than just about love, it is about connection beyond that- beyond our understanding and comprehension, beyond our imagination, beyond our mind.

It is true that our lives are not our own. We do not own our own lives. Our lives are shared. We share our lives with people all around us: we breathe the same air, we walk on the same Earth, and we have more things in common with each other more so than we think. We touch other people's lives directly and indirectly, and their effects could last a lifetime- bridging past with the present and future. 

It is amazing how many lives we have touched and we will touch in our lifetime. No matter how much of a hermit you become, you will end up touching someone's life. The biggest proof that our lives do not belong to us is that we will die, and our lives will end. If you believe in religion and God, then that is where our lives will go. If you do not, then your soul will float somewhere and it ends, into oblivion.

We will be infinite and our lives will go on, our legacies, our memories, our effects, they will ripple through time but we will not be there to see them. And during that time, our lives will be past to them, not ours anymore but theirs.

"Our lives are not our own."

p.s: Borrowed.