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De Illusion of Living
<p><br/></p><p>You’d know if you were living… or merely passing through.
</p><p>The difference is subtle, yet loud, revealed only when we dare to ask the questions that matter.
</p><p>Truth is, many of us hide from those questions.
</p><p>We defend, we excuse, we survive.
</p><p>But what is life if survival is all we practice… and living is postponed?
</p><p>We walk the same streets every day, yet see nothing.
</p><p>The fresh paint on the corner wall, the new shop sign, the quiet art hidden in the ordinary.
</p><p>Beauty stands still… while we rush past it, imprisoned by our own thoughts.
</p><p>Fear becomes louder than joy.
</p><p>In our heads, the questions never rest</p><p>What if I get sacked?</p><p>What if I fail?</p><p>What if I’m not enough?</p><p>Notice how our what-ifs rarely sound hopeful.
</p><p>We imagine storms, never sunshine.
</p><p>And so we spin</p><p>Round and round in an invisible cage,
</p><p>Mistaking anxiety for ambition,
</p><p>Existence for living.
</p><p>Some of us need to be pulled out of this illusion</p><p>Reminded that living is not just breathing,
</p><p>Not just earning,
</p><p>Not just enduring.
</p><p>Living is the carefree laugh.
</p><p>The random detour.
</p><p>The genuine smile that asks permission from no one.
</p><p>When last did you do something simply because it made you happy?
</p><p>I ask you…
</p><p>But I ask myself too.
</p><p>Because even as I write this</p><p>I know I’ve also been guilty
</p><p>Of existing…
</p><p>When I should have been living.</p><p>
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