You were born. Now you're in bed. And the eternal hand of time, relentless, has set it on fire. Every day the fire rises. So slowly that you don't notice it. No one notices. You’re comfortable, you’re safe, you’re fine.
Why get out of bed?
Ah, but time does not stop. The years pass, and with each passing year you promise yourself again: "This year I will quit this crappy job and dedicate myself entirely to my paintings. This year I'll join the gym and this year I'll travel around the world with my buddies, hitchhiking if necessary."
But each day passes and every day you remain in bed, The Eternal Comfort, guarding you, ensuring you do not escape your world, your bubble. Another 10 years pass. And suddenly, in a flash of consciousness and awareness, you open your eyes. "Wow," you say. You breathe. You notice for the first time that the bed, since you were born, has been set ablaze. The fire is almost near your chest.
What happened to all those dreams you had? What happened to the trips you wanted to take? What happened to the body you desired? What happened to the relationships, what happened to the passions? You had so many aspirations. So much potential.
The bed is catching fire. You realize you could have always jumped into the water. "Is the water too cold?" You don't know. No one knows. Maybe it’s warm, maybe the first dive is unbearably cold. It's understandable that you don't jump. It's understandable, the fear of the unknown. It's understandable that you don't want to leave that career you hate. No one blames you. The bed is comfortable. But time is slipping away, and the fire rises.
And you begin to feel the heat that is regret.
You start to realize how much regret will hurt. You start to understand that it never mattered what others thought, and you begin to grasp what your own excuses are.
You realize, you've become a creature of "would have."
You look at the fire. You look at the water. Fear of regret? Fear of Eternal Comfort? Fear of not growing, not experiencing, of not giving everything to life? Or fear of the unknown? The dive?
You sit at the edge of the bed.
You look at the pillow one last time.
You jump. Or perhaps it was this delirium I had in mind when I captured this image.