the life.

The moment he opened his eyes was the moment he should be thankful that he was given another day to live on this forsaken planet.  He had never done it: being thankful. For 25 years he struggled with his life; going here and there, doing this and that, trying to find money to get by another hour, another day, another month, another year. Get up, clean, off to work, lunch, work, dinner, work. Home.

That was his routine.

He never got tired of it. He realized that was what he needed to do to get by. He felt frustrated with how his life had turned out but if it was fated, what can he do about it. People say, well, if you fight hard enough, maybe your luck and fate will change. But then he thought:

Well I’ve fought hard enough, I mean, I did try to change the way I live. Did I try hard enough? Yes. I did. But here I am, still stuck doing the same shit over and over again so I can get by every, single, day. What if I am the unlucky few that God had chosen to lead a stagnant, unimportant and uneventful life? What if that IS my fate all along? Then, if it is so, should I fight to change it? If it is meant to be, then, it is meant to be right? FATE. Whoever created that word is a genius. A four letter word that can mean so much. Like love, or hate, or sick or life. Four-letter words to describe the deepest feelings and emotions and thoughts. No wonder sometimes we run out of things to say.

What am I babbling here? What I am trying to say is, I should be thankful. I am living and I have lived. But to ask for more, is it wrong? Is it too much to ask, to see the world? Too much to ask too, to fall in love? Much to ask, to feel, happy? Truly, genuinely, happy. Why can other people experience that and not me? To be able to do things they love and get away with it. Why can't i be the same? Life can be so, unfair? Can I say that? Fair. that is another big four-letter word. 

Those were his thoughts.

He knew life was going to be hard. He never expected it to be THIS hard. He should be thankful though. He never starved, he was not terminally ill, and he lived in a peaceful country. What more could he ask for? The necessities were there, to not be taken for granted. He had enough food, a stable income (though just enough for survival. Sometimes though, it is not enough to survive.), a shelter, clothes.

One more thing: He had family and friends who loved him.

He had the strongest pillar of support anyone could ever ask for. He looked back at his life, all those hardships he went through to help provide for his family, the drama and fun he had with his friends; he had all of those. He was happy. There were lots of moments with them when he felt truly happy. He felt carefree.

He never traveled the world, or had a car, or had fancy gadgets, or wear expensive clothes or ate expensive food. So when he breathed his last breath on that fateful Sunday morning, he knew his life was not the dream life he had hoped and imagined when he was younger. But my God, did he live. 

My God, did he live.

p.s: be thankful, and happy. you are fortunate, too.