in her pillows.
I wonder what we would think of ourselves if we were ignorant of the opinions that people have of us. Are we only focused on drawing reactions from those around us? Sometimes I think we obsess over it so much that we lose track of time. We find ourselves unaware of the courage and valor that we posses; ignorant of our own shortcomings. We stagnate. Inching ahead, but in a circle. Pretty soon our health and our mind give up on us. Our supporters and soothsayers too.
When we die, we turn into statistical data. Reference numbers. Shriveled up fruits on a family tree. A mere name for our great grandchildren to lackadaisically utter during family reunions. And then one fine morning, perhaps a little sunny with chances of showers later that day, someone references your existence in the known universe for the very last time. You are gone. Keyser Soze-d forever.
Thankfully, it is never too late to start living. Each of us probably out-swam 200 million others to get here. And we have one lifetime to feel good about ourselves. Sing under an actual waterfall, not your shower. Paint like you have never dreamed before. Write about that afternoon you spent with someone. Travel with your feet. And love like you want to be loved.
This little piggy was featured in an online literary magazine during their celebration of World Poetry Day in 2014.