I woke up, and found that life is pretty much the same anywhere.
It was another day, in another country, in another life.
I wonder how many times was this since I had the same realization. A hundred and fiftieth?
Doesn't really matter.
Life goes on—the leaves go yellow, and the moon waxes as the waves come and go. Yet nothing really changes whether the pawn becomes the queen or the bishop takes the king.
Just make your piece count, I mused. I bet I had thought the same for the nth time too.
Life is pretty much the same anywhere. Whether you're rich or poor, the fundamental problem stays the same, we worry about what comes next, where our lives will go.
Will tomorrow come? A question we never fail to ask at some points, and worry about the things we leave behind as we go.
Still, the question is... what happens to us as we sleep eternally? Better, what will happen to me as I go through life from one to another for eternity?