I still have to see the world.
I still have to do everything in my Bucket List.
I still have to do something significant to change the world.
I still have to run for president (needs to be immortal to do this).
This is just a thought that struck me today; a thought I entertained as I passed by my usual route to office, finding myself in the middle of armed bank security personnel along Paseo de Roxas. Armored cars were ready for an apparent transfer of humongous sum of money (just assuming considering it's the bank's headquarters). What if the same group that made the heist in Greenbelt 5 suddenly appears? There will be gunfires. People will scramble for their lives. And I'll be there, standing numbly with a bullet on my chest. My life will flash before my eyes.
And then silence.
That same silence will overcome me as I face Heaven's gate; I'll be unable to say anything, anything good. Was I good? It is easy to say that I'm good but then it is just me. If I have the chance to look down and see my own wake, what would the people there have to say? Would they be crying? Would they feel that it has been a loss? Would they say: "He was good."?
I reckon all the good words we can say to a person can only be uttered earnestly on eulogies. I mean, words that never crossed anybody's mind when that person is living, or words we held back. Maybe because words are cheap and that action speaks louder than words. Words are cheap in this temporal world because we made it that way. We grew up with words to our whimsical disposal. When we lose someone dear to us, the only thing we can give are words but then, these are real words -- the sum of all the love for that person who'll not be here to hear those words.
If I die today (yes, even if I'm not ready -- aren't we all?) and someone whispers "he was good" even in the faintest of heartbeat yet heartfelt, it shall be enough.
Action maybe louder but words are eternal.