A long time ago, someone once told me that a special part of us dies when we grow up, and that bits of us continue to die as we get older… And I believed them for awhile… So I lived each day like it was a funeral; like life was one big waiting room with death on the other side of the door. I stopped caring about things and people because if it was all so trivial, there was no point in trying… But I grew tired of that view. It drained and exhausted me; it turned me into a cynic… But on a warm April night, I realized yes, we all have to be born and then have to die. But who said it had to be a tragedy? Who said we had to dwell on our demise, treating our moments like insignificant grains of sand on a deserted beach? And that’s when I felt something I hadn’t felt since I was a child… It was as if instead of something dying inside me, there was something being born down there in the depths; every day became a new discovery, a chance to be reborn with the wide-eyed abandon of a child. There was suddenly meaning and beauty everywhere, even in the most unlikely of places. Once I started seeing life as an unfathomable gift, that’s exactly what it became. Suddenly I wanted to feel things; I wanted to climb mountains, and write novels. I wanted to listen to songs and raise children, to laugh freely and wildly. I wanted to fall in love, to sing and dance and swim in the ocean. I wanted to find God or the light, or something larger than my own understanding. I wanted to hug everyone in my life simply for existing alongside me… And that is when Happiness began. That is when the darkness began to fade… Death became a mere afterthought, not the ultimate evil. Death became the bibliography at the end of a well-written book. We all exit this life eventually, but that’s not the tragedy… The real tragedy is going through your days like each one were a funeral; expecting things to die, and cursing the skies when they did. In that fallacy is where the darkness dwelled… Our time here is finite. Our Life together is short. Our bodies will someday die… But our memories and our spirits and our moments go on. And in that understanding, there was beauty… In that belief there was hope.
“Darkness Falling” -Hope lights a candle, instead of cursing the darkness. (via youngdrunkglamorous)
A long time ago, someone once told me that a special part of us dies when we grow up, and that bits of us continue to die as we get older… And I believed them for awhile… So I lived each day like it was a funeral; like life was one big waiting

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Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it.

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