Who will you remain after you draw you last breath? A conqueror of nations, a hero, a lover, a coward, a liar? What legacy do you leave behind, other than your possessions and your riches, that fall to the floor at the drop of a hat?
Did you ever give someone so much love that you didn’t care for reciprocity? Did you shed a tear in the wake of human suffering? Did apathy take over, or did you act? Did you bring misery to the ones around you, or did you make their living experience a little more pleasant?
Will people remember you by the empires you built? Or will they remember your sacrifices so someone else could? Are you content with being the storywriter, working to his heart’s content behind closed doors, or do you want to be the actor, that plays the part, bathed with glamour and spotlight?
Are you willing to be quietly radiant, like the sun, regardless of gratefulness or acknowledgment? Are you willing to acknowledge your ignorance of and your irrelevance to this cosmos, and embrace the humility that comes with this affirmation?
Are you willing to work without clamoring for the fruits of your labor and live life without expectation?
What story, after curtains, will your life tell?
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