The buckets

Life's too short. Way too short.

By the time we begin to make sense out of what we speak we've already wasted half a decade. By the time we get to grips about feeling hurt and pain that others caused we've already quarter-or-so of a decades old. By the time we found out why are we breathing the same air every day we might already be halfway through our journey in life. So what does the other half of the journey means to you, and me?

I don't know.

I'm still getting to grips of my existence here. Why things happens as they are. Why someone enters your life at a certain stage and why you'll never hear from him or her again or why they left us to a better place. Is there a connection between every event in life?

I think so. The dots are too vague but they somehow would make sense. And when they do, you take it and do something about it.

Is your bucket full or half full?

PS: I'm glad the girlfriend is one of those dots, and a big and clear dot she is. She may not know this nor will she agree, but she inspires and challenges the way I think.