The shadows, the golden sunlight. The hills. The graffiti. The green rusting iron bars. The rustling trees. The birds atop the red-tiled roofs.

I’m questioning what I truly want from this life. At this point I really don’t know.

I think, for now, all that makes sense, is the thought of one day dying, knowing I fulfilled what was in my heart. Each day, you take a single step. You dig a little deeper into what makes you you.

I think I’d be happy, knowing I gave it everything I had. Even if nothing I had planned worked out.

That doesn’t necessarily mean we must work the hardest, go the furthest, achieve what we’re supposed to believe is success.

I think it’s something, a feeling, that lives within each of us. I lived the life not that was expected of me, but as a human being, I longed to live.