Time flies. Years zoom by. Friends come and go.
Seasons change. Trees grow, bear fruits and wither.
Your body, just like a bottle of milk, has an expiry date.
Just like bubbles on a water or a flash in a pan,
Everything that is born ... dies.
Time's not on your side.
It flows through your fingers like grains of sand in a desert.
You try to catch it, but you fail.
You try to cherish the precious memories, but they fade away.
You try to hold on to who you were, but you change.
How many grains of sands you have left?
... no one knows.
On a dying bed...
...you won't be counting the dollars you made.
...you won't be thinking about your next business or career move.
...you won't be pondering about how big is your house or how cool is your car.
You will think about all the things you wanted to do but never did.
You will think about all the friends you wanted to keep close but never called.
You will think about if your life made a difference for all of us here.
So don't wait until the Grim Reaper knocks on your door.
Do what you came here to do.
If you were born to be a singer, sing. If you were born to be a writer, write.
If you were born to be a mother, have kids and build a family.
Don't waste those precious grains of sand living other people's dreams.
Find out what you were send here to do and get down to business.
Storm calms. Clouds settle. Horizon clears. Sun shines through.
Can you see it?
Your beautiful life laying ahead of you. Free for grabs.
Just reach out with your hand and make the first step towards it.
It won't always be easy, but it will be a life well lived.