And thus it began, as mentioned to us by the age old man,
The Seven Stages of Life which I have lived through in my limited time.
But no matter what you may say,
You cannot call me a Loser.
For I stand here, after quite convincingly winning the very first race that you had put me in.
I’ve walked; briskly and wearily,
I’ve ran; swiftly and heavily,
I’ve fallen down, flat faced into the delirious entrapments of your fanciful debauchery,
And yet I’ve stood back up at the end to embrace you wholeheartedly.
So whatsoever it is, tell me.
What next do you have in store for me? However odd or silly may it be
I shall take it upon me to finish this race that I started so steadily.
For now I realise that you are but a Privilege given to a select few. I realise that you are not my commander but only a chanced encounter.
You are a race which one can never actually win as your loyal servant runs behind in order to obliterate us all.
But to those of us who can look down upon the road rather than seeing far away into the distance searching for the destination and the meaning; they shall see the footprints left behind by the ancestors of our humble beginnings.
Life is a race indeed. Run. Not to reach the inevitable end but to leave your footprints on the tracks instead!