Too many people allow their thoughts to be constructed from sharp objects; knives and swords. Too many people have lungs corrupted by hatred. Too many people spend their time existing rather than living.
Our problem is that we aren’t grateful for what we have: half the world are left starving whilst the other half are trying to lose weight. Our thoughts race at three am, when we ought to be wrapped up in our sheets rather than the words that never left us.
We live within our memories, rather than letting our memories live within us. Our bones ache as if dictated by fear because we fail to notice life’s beauties. We fail to notice the honesty of an unmade bed or remember the relief of cold water when we’re overcome with thirst. We forget to dwell on the way that people look when they first wake up and have forgotten their surroundings and we never seem to realise the true beauty of taking a selfie, because self-confidence should be celebrated and not mocked. These are so simple yet so intricate.
The function of man is to live, not merely to exist, and I’d rather be ashes that be dust; I would rather my spark burn out in a blaze than never have existed. I am not a raft lost in the ocean, I am a ship and I promise that I will make it to shore alive.
This is something I wrote last year in the midst of my GCSEs and I actually submitted it as a part of some of my coursework. I was beginning to grow frustrated with the fact that the monotony of life was seemingly beating those around me and I started to consider how the things we might find tedious are actually the most precious things in life.