The end is what gives life meaning.
Death. Separation. Ending. Sunsets.
Imagine you go on a trip. You’re travelling to a new country and your plan is to spend 10 days there.
There are many ways to go about it. Some try to relax, some try to see and explore as much as they can.
But for all kinds of tourists, there’s one thing that dictates the tone of how they spend their time: the end.
They know for a fact that their leisure or frantic exploration has to end in 10 days.
Which is why they try to maximise what they want to do in that time.
There are many ways to go about your travel and most of them are great plans for different types of people no matter what other might criticise.
But the worst way to travel is to not go about it, to not give a fuck about it. You’re not being carefree, you’re being lazy.
There’s a difference between enjoying a nice easy travel plan and being a pussy but trying to be non-challant about it.
I’m using an iMac for next 3 months because I don’t know when will I be using it next. So I want to make the best of it right now. That’s it. It’s that simple.
And usually, trying out a new thing or surrounding usually helps me out in pushing me out of my comfort zone better than anything ever has.
We enjoyed our summer vacations. Because we knew when they end.
Most often than not, we’re hurt more not when things end but when things end all of a sudden, without warning.