Time scares me. Or the fact that it flies, scares me. Maybe it won’t be as scary if it flies and I do too, as fast and as graceful, as high and as significant; closer to the stars, closer to the moon. Then it won’t be as bad, I guess. Matter of fact I might actually enjoy it.
But flying itself is one whole different thing. It’s one whole different story. Which includes different obstacles which can eventually turn to different set of fears.
The fact that I turn 21 next year scares me. The thought of these questions I have in my head scares me: What have I done so far with my life? Have I pursued enough? Have I given enough? Have I inspired enough? Have I tried enough? Was I progressive? Was I productive? Was I beneficial? Was I helpful to others? Have I given my best?
Am I better now compared to who and how I was back then? Who all have I met? What all have I learned? What all have I written? How did I overcome problems and pain? Was I strong? Was I responsible? Was I wise? Did I make wise decisions? Did I make decisions, at all? Did I listen to myself? Did I listen to my parents? Did I listen to God? Did I talk to Him enough? Was I grateful? Did I make the right choices? Was I more of a burden, or was I a help who lessens the burden of others? Was I good a friend? Did I appreciate the little things? Was I even appreciative? Or was I ignorant? Did I contribute anything? Was I moving forward? Was I happy with my life, with my self, with everything that I am, and everything that I am not? Was I, or am I, at peace, regardless of the answers?
Was I, am I, at peace,