From the moment we become aware of ourselves, we feel the urge to live. We are thrust into a race, striving for goals, reaching for milestones we are told we must achieve. With each passing day, we sink deeper into these thoughts, consumed by a future that is always just beyond our grasp.
We climb the steep hill of our existence, our backs bent under the weight of our ambitions. Yet, with every step upward, with every effort to move forward, we are unconsciously taking a step closer to our end. We march on, often without truly knowing why we do what we do, or what it is we truly want.
There is little joy in the journey itself, only a relentless focus on the destination. We forget to feel the sun on our skin or to look at the landscape around us, the summit is all that matters. We rarely pause to question the meaning of these pursuits, yet we continue them with unwavering determination. This endless, often senseless striving. We call life.
Are we truly living? Or are we merely, diligently, moving towards death?
sneketoshi3
