As I walk through the leaf-covered path leading to my Granny's house, I think of life and how very important it is that actually knowing it's value would leave a man crazy.
My Granny always say that whatever happens in our day, God will still love us come what may. I believe in my Granny because she never lied to me.
I think of things like these when I feel like I'm missing something, and yet worrying about things like my very own existence, is something I would rather forget. I seem to make it more complicated than it already is. One happy thought follows the other until sad thoughts come into play and it all goes down to regret.
How tragic is it to die, without knowing why you were born! How can a man seek happiness when he doesn't have any of it in his bones? These and more questions sink into my mind like droplets of rain falling from the sky.
As I walked closer to Granny's gates I felt the wind brush my hair, caressing like a welcoming friend. The wind, I cannot see it, yet it's here. Which reminds me of love, and caring, and tenderness, and even anger.
Maybe the real and everlasting meaning of existence, of life itself, is like the wind too. Sometimes it knocks us down like a storm, and sometimes it rocks us to sleep.
Whatever it may be, I wish everyone can live longer to see, see the meaning of life, and how valuable it is to stay alive enough to question it.