Expiration Date
I think milk has a one-up on us humans; its expiration date is clearly marked on it.
I really have to wonder how much different our lives would be if we all knew just when we would die.
Would we spend our fleeting moments of life trying to devise a clever scheme to outwit the reaper and chance gaining some more time? Would we live it up and get fucked up until we were in enough of a stupor that we could forget about our ticking clock? Would we try and make the most of every moment, savoring every breath and squeezing the most joy possible out of life like a man dying of thirst squeezing a sponge hoping for a single drop of water? Would we stop spending so much time planning for the future and focus more on the present? Would we stop spending so much time living in the now and preparing for the future instead?
If we knew exactly when we were to die would we relish every color that hit our eyes, every melody that rippled across our ears, every aroma that enticed our nose, every loving touch that graced our skin? Would we be a little more apt to get over hurts instead of holding on to them simply because we have a right to?
If our expiration date was stamped on us like a carton of milk would we make an effort to live right? Would we try to help others or would we selfishly devour all we could before our curtains closed for the last time? Would we find it so hard to love or to trust if we knew we didnt have the time to waste on other things? Would we be more prone to taking risks?
Yet we do have an expiration date. Perhaps we cant see exactly when it is, yet we know its there just as sure as we know of the date stamped on a milk carton. So why is it so hard for us to live with that in mind?