Can anything be more idiotic than certain people who boast their foresight? They keep themselves officiously preoccupied in order to improve their lives; they spend their lives in organizing their lives. They direct their purposes with an eye to a distant future. But putting things off is the biggest waste of life: it snatches away each day as it comes and denies us the present by promising the future. The greatest obstacle to living is expectancy, which hangs upon tomorrow and loses today. You are arranging what lies in Fortune’s control, and abandoning what lies in yours. What are you looking at?  To what goal are you straining? The whole future lies in uncertainty: live immediately. Listen to the cry of our greatest poet, who as though inspired with divine utterance sings salutary verses:

Life’s finest day for wretched morals here
 Is always first to flee.

‘Why do you linger?’ he means. ‘Why are you idle? If you don’t grasp it first, it flees.’ And even if you do grasp it, it will still flee. So you must match time’s swiftness with your speed in using it, and you must drink quickly as though from a rapid stream that will not always flow. In chastising endless delay, too, the poet very elegantly speaks not of the ‘finest age’ but ‘finest day’. However greedy you are, why are you so unconcerned and so sluggish, extending months and years in a long sequence ahead off you? The poet is telling you about the day – and about this very day that is escaping. So can it be doubt that for wretched mortals – that is, the preoccupied – the finest day is always the first to flee? Old age overtakes them while they are still mentally childish, and they face it unprepared and unarmed. For they have made no provisions for it, stumbling upon it suddenly and unawares, and without realizing that it was approaching day by day. Just as travellers are beguiled by conversation or reading or some profound meditation, and find they have arrived at their destination before they knew they were approaching it; so it is with this unceasing and extremely fast-moving journey of life, which waking or sleeping we make at the same pace – the preoccupied become aware of it only when it is over.

Seneca (50) On the Shortness of Life

Sometimes you just meet someone who kick starts your energy and passion into overdrive. A brief encounter with a butterfly on the other side of the world.

I met you dancing; where you put everyone to shame. Every guy wanted to be with you, every girl wanted to be you. You were a beacon of free energy and untamed passion. A symbol of care free fun. You are gorgeous. A siren; for any man that would approach was surely to be devastated.

We danced together for hours. Losing myself in that same care free energy. Everyone watched us intensely; whether in jealousy or just awe I don’t know. Soon it became time to head home, but not before talking over a very late bite to eat.

We talked for ages afterwards too; laying on my couch in the early hours of the morning. Delving into your creativity and passion in both photography and life. A creativity that is nothing short of inspiring and a passion that was powerful to be on the receiving end of; I was completely entangled. The night was about sharing an energy that could light up streets lamps for miles; to connect and be liberated. As the morning arrive, I couldn’t help but feel that the passion, creativity and energy wasn’t just a temporary feeling, but was now seared into a moment, one that won’t ever become just a memory.

We meet new people every day, we strengthen old friendships along the way, and we always have the opportunity to change lives. We all have something to offer, and should never hold it back. We each have the power to lead, to encourage those we encounter to be the best version of themselves. To inspire their passions and desires. As an introvert, I tend to believe that to a degree we need a good part of our energy simply for ourselves; however, you have made me realise that when you bring an energy to the table, and uplift others, it doesn’t run out. It multiplies. Like the plague. It changes people and defines moments.

Whenever you meet someone, whether they are new or old; always be inspiring, share your passions, share your energy. You never know what profound effect it might have.

This is a story with many meanings, all of them intertwined; but I won’t spell it out for you.

So there we were, the fourth night in two weeks with a solitary purpose, have fun. With a growing desire for a real distraction and dressed to the nines, we headed out after a party. After several hours of dancing, I blended into the atmosphere; vanished into the music, and was lost.

I went to the bar to get another drink, I turned, and I caught your eye. You were standing there and for a moment time paused, the crowd swimming around us. I watched as you made your way to the bar, pushing people out of the way as you went. You reached the bar and slide next to me, you turned, and we locked eyes. You were Megan and I was Craig, and for a moment I was lost forever. Your shoulder length brown hair, your cherry red lips and mesmerising eyes. I was caught by your smile, and for a moment I was more alive than I had felt in a while. Our friends met, and we followed your invitation to the dance floor. We turned, placed our drinks down, and you were gone.

I tried to find you. I never could.

Later that night, I received a call from a friend; she was scared of the way her boyfriend was acting. I met up with them, and ended up walking him to the Taxi line to send him home. On the way to the Taxi, he was assaulted from behind, a punch to the back of the head; unsuspecting, he went down and hit the concrete. Pure random violence. Luckily he did not lose consciousness, let alone die. He was loaded into an ambulance with head trauma, and left for the hospital with his girlfriend. My friend and I followed tail in a Taxi. We sat in the waiting room of the Emergency ward for two hours until we felt comfortable leaving (later we found out he needed surgery and three metal plates inserted).

We sat on the bench outside the hospital as we waited for separate Taxi’s to take us home. The sun was rising on a very early Saturday. The smell of a fresh morning was in the air, tainted with hope and opportunity. I turned and asked if you were just a hallucination. You weren’t. Yet there I was, in the midst of a violent, unpleasant morning, sitting on a bench with a warm smile on my face, with your cherry red lips and gorgeous smile on my mind. Looking forward to the new day that awaited.