I was born on the 16th of January 1987.. i guess i didn't expect much from the world i was born into.. I was predicted to not survive the night.. they say i was too skinny for a new born.. and here i am sitting and writing a blog about it.. all my life i was disease ridden.. i was always the sickest kid in the class.. at some point i was even suspected to have cancer.. I guess i was untouchable to death all that time..
Ever so often i have moments in my life that render me anticipating a white light.. the earth will shake.. the skies will open up.. and a burning gold chariot will decent from the heaven to claim its lost soul.. a little breeze washes across my face every time this happens .. maybe whispering something.. and the moment passes.. the scariest part about death is that it has no schedule.. or at least its not that perfect a schedule.. i wonder how it works. the entire system of birth and death.. it might be as simple as some mystical Jackass just popping bubbles off a bubble wrap.. or may be a courtroom procedure in itself with a request and a jury.. either way if the number's up.. we are screwed for life..
It doesn't really matter.. How we die.. or how death is brought upon us.. all that matters is what we die for.. what our death would imply to the people who care about us.. why did we have to die? i believe every death thats delayed has a purpose.. A purpose that succeeds someone else's death.. A purpose that might eventually lead to someone else being declared an expired product..
Expecting or not it happens to us.. all of us.. but seldom all of us get the same term here on earth.. i was 13 when i saw a girl, roughly my age, being carried away to her grave.. I wonder what separated me from her.. the insignificant things,that we may seem,to Death himself.. He might as well fall asleep on his job.. miss spell a name on his list or pop one extra bubble jus for the heck of it and that could be me.. I could die for the wrong reason.. Hell!! i could die for no reason at all.. no purpose.. no destiny.. just a pop!
Blessed are those people who make themselves worth not being touched by the playful fingers of death for they mean too much for the people around them.. blessed by life.. the hand of god on their shoulder.. protected.. with the armor of God himself.. for one day.. them being alive would make all the life on earth be worth living..