the first attempt [heartfelt]

My life begins on Monday, just like the rest of us, but I am always left with a feeling of longing for more everytime my week starts. I wish, sometimes, that life came to a standstill and I could live in that particular moment, for a lot of such moments. Moments such as the ones when I am with my friends taking a walk by the sea, when I see the clock on a sunday morning and it reads 10 a.m., when I am reading a nice book sitting at my balcony, only to name a few. I think my problem has always been that at most times I have expected for more, wished for more; not that I don't appreciate all that I have, but I always feel that certain moments in life are so priceless that time around such moments should stop moving so as to relish a limitless joy just staying in them. My philosophy in life, based on what I've seen, what I've learnt and what I've experienced, is that every man's day comes: one just had to wait and watch how big that day is going to be. A beggar's day would be one when he has enough money to own a hut on the street where he would beg for alms during the day time and sleep on during the night time; a corporate's day would be one when he would earn himself a much-wanted contract. So it doesn't matter how big the day is. The wait to see how big it would be could help you to move forward, but eventually during the journey called "life" one would realise the importance of the feeling of achievement rather than the achievement itself. I believe, in life, every experience, and not just the happy ones, ought to be remembered and given their due importance, because it's not just the good times that make you the person you presently are but the tough times contribute equally to that cause. We, selfishly, tend to remember only our good times--the ones we cherish, seldom remembering those tough times which have been quite elemental in shaping up the character we possess today in our lives. Although there have been times when I'm down, times when I think I have been kicked the hardest amongst all by life, yet I've always respected and loved everything life has given to me. We've often heard the term "rat-race" and found it easy at all times to relate it with our present day lives, but the way i see it life is more of a "dog struggle". We've been living lives, quite literally, like dogs for quite some time now. Each day we go to our workplaces, most often than not, unhappy with the way things have been going there; we travel in trains daily knowing deep down that we can never consider ourselves completely safe, and even after knowing that we cannot do much about it as we have to earn our daily bread and feed hungry mouths. No doubt we earn well at the end of the day, but do we realise that each passing moment in time is also one passing out of our lives?