Life is nothing more than an improbable flicker, an ephemeral sigh, an instant as full as empty that occurs in the vast universe in a fraction of time that is lost in the infinite account of time itself.
The people, the beings who breathe, who live, who learn and who struggle to leave a mark, no matter if it is big or small; we exploit this thousandth of time chasing what we long for without even knowing what it is.
Happiness is an ambiguous concept, different for each individual and complex in its mere simplicity, respectable and admirable regardless of its intensity since it harbors the essence of each soul that inhabits a body in this material world.
Living and being happy, learning from pain and sharing knowledge are essential things that make a life, which means nothing in the timeless universe but which means everything in our small scope of understanding, worth every breath.
We fight and chase the ghost of an illusion of which we have no notion, we waste valuable fragments of our lives by not giving them the importance that, usually, sooner than later, we discovered they had.
Existing is a constant battle against ourselves, time and existence in its complex definition, making it something valid, not for the universe but for ourselves, that is what makes this existence, momentary and insignificant, mean everything, even when in the end, it may not have meant anything.
