Dear (Your Name Here),
How’s it going? I’m your life. I am the power button to your existence. However, I’m starting to get a little hurt at your response when people ask you, “How’s it going?”
Same s–t, different day? Is that really how you feel? Is life that boring? Let me tell you my days.
My job is to keep you alive. That’s the only thing that matters. That’s the only reason I’m here. Do you want to hear about the hundreds of millions of sperm I beat out tens of thousands of times? What about
the Dark Ages
The Holy Roman Empire
The Ottoman Empire
Through all that, I got to you.
And that’s only the last few thousands years. I don’t have time to go back the other 3.5 billion years but you catch my drift, right?
I animate your body for only a few years in the sands of time. Don’t worry about why. There is no why. The only thing I can tell you is that I will continue to fight for you for as long as I can. Unfortunately, this body will begin to break down at some point and there will be one too many leaks or one too many clogs. But you already know this.
You are going to die. Get over it.
So whaddya say you start attacking every day with some fervor?
Whaddya say you see what this body can do at full output?
Whaddya say you try to experience different s–t on these all too limited, different days.
If you don’t want to go full throttle for yourself, do it for us. Poor Mr. Heart never even gets a break! He’s there pumping day and night. He yearns to go out and see a sunset, fall in love, start a business, or volunteer, but he can’t. He is too busy pumping for you. Talk about same s–t different day! And gosh, the Mitochondria brigade would jump at the opportunity to explore far off countries, read a book or learn another language but they’re too busy managing all the cells. Do it for white blood cells, the tireless soldiers of your body.
I will make sure your bones, blood, brawn and brain have the nutrients they need. Let them shine! I know you have doubts and you’re worried what people will think if you fail at something (believe me, we get showered in stress when you’re nervous) but I assure you, you can slay the Duke of Doubt. I only put that old fart there to keep you from killing yourself. When it comes to chasing your dreams, he’s a scarecrow. He’s a relic. Believe me, I’ve seen him. You’d laugh at the little guy that causes you such fits.
Live me to the fullest. I’m the only life you got. Let’s do this before I have to split unceremoniously one day.
Of course, in your pursuit for “the fullest”, put on a sweater, get your rest and eat right so I can help revive, replenish, and repair this body, because in the words of that music you like to listen to: The chances of being born are so slim, so keep warm; keep warm.
We can be great together.
P.S. Oh and hey, it’d be great if when using that potential of yours you could make the world a better place along the way. I’ve been on a hell of a journey and if the road was a little less bumpy ahead, I wouldn’t hate that.