A pity, and dreadfully stubborn.
Ulises Vargas
November 27, 2025.
Is there a set number of experiences which one person can live in a lifetime—
a universal and set holding of experiences for everyone?
No, of course not. Some people experience more than others:
they take life as a challenge to play, explore, and discover.
Then, there’s some people with age, but without appropriate experience.
Experience is not equal; not every lifetime lives as much life:
One person’s two months of experiences, development, and activity
is another’s three days full of adventure.
How pitiful, those who live once a week and not at all.
How pitiful, when they become envious of the ambitious superstar,
wishing that they could trade lives.
How pitiful, when they die and leave behind only a short memoir
at a lone and quiet funeral.
Yet, still more pitiful,
is how they chose to live that way
and then died that way.
Was this the best that they could do?
Since the beginning, had they no chance to live—
to live like a superstar?
No, of course not. They had choices to make.
They had opportunities to try—try anything at all.
They left the ambition to others, as if hypothesizing themselves
that any experiment—whatever novelty it be—
is too gruesome, too impossible, and too fruitless.
They were no fun.
They wasted their opportunities,
and didn’t bother making more for themselves.
Grieve their shelled existence
with little to no words,
except that their whole story
is a cautionary tale against caution.