A friend of mine died today. I saw his death a few years back,not because of his health,but because he stopped living. He worked long and hard,got drunk after work. Day in,day out the same thing. This post is not so much about his death but more about my way of thinking. When does one really die? If we are alive but have no life,no dreams,hobbies,no ambititions,no future,ect. didn't we die already? The body might be strong,but is that enough if we stop dreaming? What good is living without risk,fun,love....
