This weekend I spoke on the phone with a man who told me he was years old He thought he had another 20 in him. “Still wouldn’t be long enough,” he told me. “I’m still having a good time.”
I also met plenty of people in the last week who are so miserable that the thought of one more day of life seems horrible.
And whenever I’ve lost someone, life always seems too short, no matter how long their life was.
Me? I want to live forever, and not in that lame Twilight way. Or at least with less brooding and sparkling. I’m not sure how I’ll swing it, but that’s the plan.
How about you? How much is enough?
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