My heart beats. It does this approximately 65 times a minute. Every minute.
When I turn my head to look around me, I see shapes and textures and above all, miraculous, beautiful colour.
When I eat, I taste.
When I reach out my hand, I feel hot, cold, soft, hard, rough, smooth. I feel.
My brain is able to process all of this, and knows what to do with it.
Even though I cannot dance, I have the option of standing still.
Sometimes, all we are meant to have in life is life itself.
If the only gift we are given is health, we are spoiled.
The knowledge that we will wake up tomorrow, so easily taken for granted or worse, ignored, is twenty-four carat knowledge. If we have this, we are bejeweled.
A life, no matter what it is made of, is the most valuable commodity existing. If we have this, we own a private economy.
So my heart that beats has never known love. It may never, but it beats.
I may die alone, but first, will have lived.
If we blind ourselves to what we have and what surrounds us, we will never see anything.
Every second spent waiting, wanting, demanding, expecting, is a precious second wasted.
So if I cannot love another, I will love the blue in the sky, or the red on a rose.
If I cannot find happiness in empty outside sentiments, I will find it in the scent on the air, or that of a new book, freshly opened.
If I cannot imagine my life shared, I will share my words and my thoughts instead, and be glad I am able.
I will not die a second before I am dead.
I breathe.
