Life is very much like walking along the coastline of some sandy beach (and really just any arbitrary beach) and we spend half of our time wondering if we would ever take a wrong step and the other of the time wishing that we had the courage to even find out. Most of our lives just drift on by a "one step forward, two steps back" routine and as we huddle along with the masses, we desperately look back to see what we left behind and how we could turn back the clock and return things to status quo. But every step we take and every imprint is callously washed away by the waves the instant we set foot on the next and there's hardly anything to go back to. But we desperately search, against our intuition, against the purpose of life.

We are all fixated on counting the number of steps that we missed but forget to count the number of steps that we have taken. We shirk at the thought of making choices but fail to count our blessings that we even have a choice to live or die. The autonomy over our own movements and direction have long been taken for granted and while we're painstakingly digging up for buried treasure, we inevitably mount a pile of dirt over the rewards we had gathered before.

Life is like walking on the moon; you have the view of the entire earth and its stratosphere and you can feel, and almost literally see, the gravity of the situation. Yet, it is oftentimes the hardest to grasp the severity of circumstances when we're in it ourselves and our footsteps feel so insignificant, leaving no signs of imprint or a mark for people to remember us, yet the way the others fluidly and gracefully bypass the unearthly grounds swells you up with jealously. We shout and scream inside our heads and no one hears us; no one but the gravity and the dark empty space that surrounds us, and fills our hearts.

Life is a solemn vow to keep moving forward and to focus on the right things, even just the possibility that things could be right rather than knowing that things could go horribly wrong. Many a times, things do go wrong because we want them to. We want them to collapse into a pitfall of agony so we can look back and say, "I knew I was right. I knew I should have listened to my inner voice and not done this". It is an affirmation of what we have failed to become, a substitute for our setbacks and failure; if we are unable to achieve greater heights, at least we are now satisfied that our foolproof prophecy of imminent downfall has been ascertained.

What a fool we are to have only accentuated our weaknesses and impairments. The way we frivolously take life by its limbs and fling it around hoping it would twist into something desirable when we know perfectly well that such rough handling will only lead to deformity.

We live our lives as though we were walking on the moon, which we should, but we're walking on the inside. Where it is cold, dark and insipid, and all we can hear at the silent footsteps of the other people floating about outside, dancing gracefully and soaking all envy off you. We curse and swear and flood our inner dome with profanities instead of channeling our energy to calling for help, but of course nobody hears you in your isolated kingdom. In the darkness, we only imagine what life outside our confinements is like, the way people sing and make merry outside, and we are certain we are right (for we are always right). And the way we live like this, everything is arbitrary.

Just that arbitrary beach you walk along, and that arbitrary space of darkness you cry within.

It's all the same; hollow, empty and just you and yourself.

The sandy beach erases all your footsteps, begging you to start anew but you only crawl back looking for your past mistakes so you can prove them right.

And little do you know that inside the moon, you are the one who is safe. You are capable of feeling the gravity, and that gives you a choice to move where you want to. You feel the gravity of the situation and you can make the rational decisions to alleviate your sufferings. Outside, they ran out of oxygen, and if only they knew that their rigid and stiff bodies gently pounding the surface of the moon would leave such a lasting impact on you, they wouldn't have not agreed to meet their demise earlier.