You and twenty one: Wasted Youth

Where are you going?

Why are you wasting your life with trivial pursuits?

You’re getting old. You should probably look into the mirror and tell yourself to get a life.

Why are you falling in love with the wrong person?

You should probably be yourself by now. Love can wait.

Why are you still with people who do not encourage you to grow?

Life waits for no man. Time cuts you the very moment you waste it.

Where are you going, dear youth? Your skin is growing, your body is dying — Is your heart growing?

You need to water it with a purpose. A steady measure to keep it controlled.

Your parents, they are getting old. Sooner or later, you’re going to be busy with life. Your relationship’s going to be cold.

Keep it warm. Tell them you love them. If you can’t tell them, show your love to them.

Actions speak louder than words, sometimes.

All the time.

Don’t forget them, they are your first love, and they will always be the first people who will love you unconditionally.

What are you doing?

Why are you wasting your talents away? Why are you so naive?

You have all the talents in the world-go and pursue that great writing career you’ve been yearning to get. You need not write a novel.

But you need to write your life out. You need the courage to explain what you want and need in life.

A need is more important than a want. You need water to maintain your body. You don’t need coke to kill your heart.

Do not care what others have to say about you. What they say are merely reflections of what they can’t pursue.

Because they don’t have the talent that you do.

Go now.


Take your time.

Stop watching tv.

Lessen your time on social media.

Escape life on the net for a moment.

Find yourself in this urban jungle.

Swim through the sea of crowd, and you will realize

that they are finding a purpose in their lives too.

Some have found it. Others are still lost.

Some need to be guided by those who have found the purpose to live.

You and twenty one, and you have wasted your youth.

Twenty one and beyond, and I cannot care less of what you think about me.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.