Take a look at an old photo of you and think of how you’re aging all the time, drawing closer to your last breath. You can marry, have children, grandchildren–graduate, get promoted, buy houses, cars, and toys. Take vacations and build for the future. But the future comes and all you see is that old photo of you: younger, healthier, happier, more vital. The future comes and it only brings your end, and all your work and children and houses and such go on to their end, and the future you were building was only a dream, an illusion which you kept working for, drudging toward and for what? Why was all so important to you? Why did you take it all so seriously?
(My birthday is next week, and I always feel a little down during my birthdays especially this year as I’m turning 30 so I’m bit emotional )