I write to learn the truth. The truth of life; of death. The truth of you; of me. I write because I want to know why I write. I write because I can’t do anything else; my hands know only the language of literature and not the language of carpenter.
Why do I want to learn the truth? I want to learn it because it’s something I don’t understand. Why do you do what you do? How come you wake up in the morning? Why are you always punctual? Why don’t you take risks? What is your purpose?
Nothing angers me more than waste. Waste of time and talent. Whether you believe we were created on purpose or a product of natural selection, you must understand we all have a purpose.
It’s not to stew and wait for our time to come. You must contribute in one way or another. To enjoy your life by yourself is the most selfish act.
There is no fault in fearing death or expecting it, but don’t use it as an excuse. “Why bother, we’re all going to die anyway.”
Every time you don’t accomplish something, you die. Slackers and underachievers will die so often that they will not realize when their time has come.
It will welcome them with darkness and the recipient will have no pleasure in accepting it. There will be no peace.
What am I trying to say? Do something. It doesn’t matter if it’s profitable. A turnover of happiness is worth more than that of financial security. In a comfortable setting, everything is possible.