Books of a page: Song by Seamus Heaney
Atmosphere: Broken
Suddenly you were gone
From all the lives you left your mark upon
We waste our time here. We really do. We sit in our bunkers and watch as all of these moments pass by like some wind, hastening our demise.
I was reading the story of a man who passed away on a forum I frequent a couple of years ago. He wasn't like that. He was the sort of person who crammed everything into life he possibly could. There's even a quote on one of the band's DVDs, that's immortalised him in the eyes of us.
Thirty one years isn't a long time, is it?
And yet it was all he got.
He lived every single moment of it, as far as I know. Yes, he complained about his problems, like we all do. But he got up and did something about them, he stuck it to them.
That's what we should do.
Live each moment to it's very end. Have our tussles. Experience.
Because in the end, what can we do when we haven't?
In the end, I don't even think this one "insignificant" person knew how much he touched a person's life. He may have only talked to me a few times, but the way in which he lived and the way in which he talked and listened touched me like he did so many others.
He often thought he was nobody's hero. But yet, all of these outpourings of emotion occurred upon the news. All of these people who wished that he would be there for one more story about a Westerner in an Eastern society, for one random conversation about music, for anything.
Life is short, and can be grasped from us at any moment.
Live every moment, the good and the bad, as they are.
Thank you, Keith.
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