Morbid Opportunities or Wasted Time

Sometimes....sometimes it'll be quiet outside of my body and in the recesses of mind. Sometimes I'll look at my family, or the computer in my room and realize how lucky I am. Sometimes I think about what my life would be like if I hadn't been born with the ability to see, hear, or breathe on my own. Sometimes my ability to even see these small/huge privileges seems like a privilege of itself. Maybe that's why I like walking or taking the bus. I look at those things from the other end of spectrum. How many people would love to walk? Or would love to have somewhat affordable public transportation open to them? If the biggest thing I have to worry about is whether or not I'm going to be late for school, then I consider myself to be lucky.

I'm not a religious person though I am somewhat spiritual. For whatever reason I have this image in my head of how everyone is handed an equal amount of something at the beginning of their existence. This to me explains why some people have 99.9% averages but no social skills, so on and so forth. Sometimes I look at my situation and think, "I have too much something. I'm not meant to have all this, and one day the scales will be set to balance each other out and I will lose some or a lot of my something." This scares me and sets me on edge. Don't get misunderstand me though. I don't mean a nervous edge, the type I would teeter or titter over before falling over. No, the edge I feel and see is one of undefinable distance. My life right now is at one side and that edge is my death. Or maybe the death of my mother, father, or sisters. Basically that edge is the end of time of something. I have no amount of guaranteed time with anything or anyone in my life. When I see this edge and when I realize that I can't tell how close or far away this edge is that means I'll start to feel a push. I need to find someone I love and soon. Since I spend so much time at home this usually means it'll be one of my sisters or parents. I don't explain this edge or that push to them. I'll just hug them, give them a kiss and say I love them. If a horde of zombies were to come in at that instant I need to know that they know with every fiber of their existence that I do love them.

Realistically I can't spend all my time thinking about this something. Maybe this has more to do with what I think I deserve than with philosophically cherishing the time I have. Maybe it's both.

Just thought you should know.