I would reflect on the irony of attempting to find significance only once the real opportunity of doing so had already passed.
I would try to find joy in the little things that have always brought me so much disproportionate happiness: the birds and the views from the hilltops on long walks with my dogs, the company of my family, the peace and humility of walking under the stars on a clear night, a little piece of new knowledge gained, a few small acts of kindness with nothing asked in return, the company of young children full of fun and mischief and wonder, and unburdened by care. Silly little things that go to making up a life filled with lots of little smiles and moments of unconditional happiness. I'm not sure I'd spend any time on random girls, I think that would feel like time wasted.
I hope I would have the courage to keep my impending expulsion from the Vale of Tears to myself, so that those around me could enjoy a simple happiness in my company, without needing to imbue the time with an artificial significance, and without making every small act into some sort of contrived ritual of love. I hope I would be able to meet the eternal footman with grace, and a sense of humour, as that would represent a small but meaningful victory over death, and allow me to die as I have tried to live. I think, if granted a week, that would be enough.
I would try to find joy in the little things that have always brought me so much disproportionate happiness: the birds and the views from the hilltops on long walks with my dogs, the company of my family, the peace and humility of walking under the stars on a clear night, a little piece of new knowledge gained, a few small acts of kindness with nothing asked in return, the company of young children full of fun and mischief and wonder, and unburdened by care. Silly little things that go to making up a life filled with lots of little smiles and moments of unconditional happiness. I'm not sure I'd spend any time on random girls, I think that would feel like time wasted.
I hope I would have the courage to keep my impending expulsion from the Vale of Tears to myself, so that those around me could enjoy a simple happiness in my company, without needing to imbue the time with an artificial significance, and without making every small act into some sort of contrived ritual of love. I hope I would be able to meet the eternal footman with grace, and a sense of humour, as that would represent a small but meaningful victory over death, and allow me to die as I have tried to live. I think, if granted a week, that would be enough.