the most important point in my life was when i realized there was no point. i didn't see an overarching goal for life, no end-all, be-all moment to work towards; but what i did see was that life was made up of a bunch of little moments strung together. one moment, one glorious moment, followed by another. and another, and another, until you hit a moment that makes you sick. a moment so rock bottom, you feel physically ill and never want to get out of bed. you just dream dreams of never stepping foot on solid ground again. you dream of just wasting away the rest of your days under the covers because you can't see a point. you live, you work, you die. the golden years passed you by when you weren't noticing and now all you see is a downward spiral. all your fun has been had, all the good has been exhausted. just to lay in bed forever would be better than going outside, better than getting old and forgetting everyone while you slowly fall apart. but to stay in bed forever is to never see another glorious moment.

the most important moment in my life was when i realized i had it all wrong, that i'm not trying to work towards one moment that will magically manifest itself years down the road. the end will come and i will be gone and what i should be working for is making sure i've smiled before then.