It is not that we have a short time to live but waste much of it. You let the hours slip through your fingers like dust and then curse wind for taking them. are pressed time you bleeding it on distractions fear things know do matter. speak purpose live passenger. Every moment hesitate theft from yourself act mortals in all fear immortals desire. suffering so shrink. desire endlessly rot. What will face now enforce upon later when comes there be no refund mercy. Only silence life could been.