To exist in this particular plane of time and state of being is a gift to be grateful for, yet worry is ever-present in the eyes of those I pass on the streets, people without a glance to spare for the gift of the moment.
Always going somewhere, never appreciative of what they have and where they are. Once they reach their destination, perhaps they are content? Alas, but no. They barely have time to take their shoes off before they tie their shoelaces again and move out the door.
So it continues forever and a day. Never really living, but rather just existing.
Every basic human need is fulfilled, yet we are so empty. Endless possibilities? Perhaps. But at what cost? Was man not created for a simpler life, a life with less distraction, a life without a quadrillion things to worry about.
We were supposed to live in the moment. Is it too late?