What would it be like to let go off your profession? What will be it like if I put my career on the backburner? What will be it like to take the plunge? It's funny, there is only one way to find an answer to these questions is to do it. The day I might do it is not so far away. I beleive it's time I lived life my way. It's time to rewind a few things. Take some risks and start living. Time for that wall to wall bookrack bursting with my books. Time to work when I feel like it. Time to be with the ones that love you. Time to savour nature. Time to tend to the little flowers in your garden. Time to pause and enjoy whatever life throws at you. Time to have a few pets. Time to play music to your heart's content. Time to meditate. Time to do it all. I am already feeling good.
I have to write. Those were the words that escaped the dying man's lips. He was found lying unconscious near a mountain of blank paper. His autopsy revealed over exhaustion as the reason. But what did he want to write so badly that it killed him, no one knows. The task was designated to the junior cop who was part of the investigation team. Let's call him Namura. So here we are with Namura in a room with the mountain of blank paper. He is awed as to why should there be so many papers near a dying man. He picks a sheet on the top. He studies it. It's as blank as blank papers can be. No pencil or pen has violated its virgin whiteness. Namura thinks of the white bed sheets back home. He is tired. All he wants is to crash on his bed. He feels angry about the whole situation. Here I am, staring at a blank piece of paper, wondering why someone who wanted to write so badly didn't write a single word, while the whole world is sleeping on their comfy beds. He wanted to tear the ...
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