Dear paper,
We are wasting our time, paper. Time is a very precious thing, a gift given to us from God, and yet here we are, wasting it. Letting it slip from our fingers.
We should do something good to help us after our death, but here we are. And time is slipping. It is here for us now, but it might not be in a second. I might die before getting to finish this.
When will people realize this, paper? We never know if we have all the time in the world. We never will. It all might end in a few hours, minutes, or even seconds.
Tick, tock.
