a Heart shaped box

I have been thinking. No, not about food this time, but about life. Or living actually. What is it to live? How do we really live? Like how can we be sure that we are really living this life, not only surviving it. And what´s the difference, or is there really one?

When I tell myself to live, it means to live so that I can feel it. Living the life with the whole God given heart so that I can feel the whole of it. Feel the goods... and the bads too. Feel the moments I just wanna spread my arms and dance arond the dark room or the moonlit glade or the full-of-people beach... but also feel the moments I really wouldn´t want to feel. The down lows... the ones wishing my heart wasn´t that easy to steal... or wishing my heart just was made of steel.

Us, people, we have a bad habit to guard our heart too well to keep it from hurting. We´ve heard, and we´ve been taught to keep our heart safe and sound, so we tend to close it in a safe, in a treasure chest in some hidden well guarded place to keep it away from getting hurt and wounded and from getting any hard knocks from this school of life.

So, time goes by and suddenly we realize we have become old. We are part of the gray people out there hitting the knee-high sleet with the kicksledge or the walker and well, it may be true our precious and well guarded heart shaped box is somewhat untouchable by any bad things, and the heart inside is as neat and whole as new. But I guess the real guestion is: Have we really lived a single moment of our lives, or have we just survived?

I think I´d rather die than just survive. Surviving can not be the meaning of life. So I try to live instead. Through the whole thing. The ups and downs. But never stay down.
Dont know if it shows on the outside, that you should ask my friends about, but at least it feels good. And u know, when there´s a feeling around, that´s where you´ll find me. :)