The only thing I truly have is me, I am my everything.
My life, at its fullest and longest, will be but a speck in the sands of time. And yet, to me it will be my everything. This speck will be my everything.
My past and my future bear down on me like a permanent yoke. And yet, the me of the present is all I have. This me will be all I have.
I want to do right by this speck of time, this little me of the present. It is everything I have, and I want to make the most out of this precious little everything I have.
Until this little everything I have returns again to nothing.