Here’s a wonderful piece I found, written by a renowned Brazilian poet Mário De Andrade.

I counted my years and discovered that I have fewer years left to live compared to the time I have lived until now. 

I feel like a boy who won a package of treats. The first he eats with pleasure, but when he realizes that there are a few left, he then starts to contemplate upon them.

I no longer have time for endless meetings that achieve nothing as statuses, rules, procedures and regulations are discussed. Neither do I have time to give encouragement to absurd people who, despite their age, have not grown up.

I don’t have time to deal with mediocrity. I don’t want to be in meetings where egos parade. I won’t tolerate manipulators and opportunists. I am bothered by envious people, seeking to discredit the able ones, to usurp their places, talents and accomplishments. I hate to witness the ill effects, generated by the struggle for a better job, among ambitious people.

I detest people who do not argue about content but titles. My time is too precious to discuss titles. I want the essence, my soul is in a hurry. Not many treats are left in the packet.

I want to live among human people, very human. People, who can laugh at their mistakes. Who do not become full of themselves because of their triumphs. Who do not consider themselves elite, before they have really become one. Who do not run away from their responsibilities. Who defend human dignity. Who do not want anything else but to walk along with truth, righteousness, honesty and integrity.

The essential thing is what makes life worthwhile.

I want to surround myself with people who can touch the hearts of others. People who, despite the hard knockouts of life, grew up with a soft touch in their soul.

Yes, I am in a hurry. So that I can live with the intensity, which only maturity can give me.

I intend not to waste any of the treats I have left. I am sure they will be more exquisite compared to the ones I have eaten so far.

My goal is to reach the end satisfied and at peace with my loved ones and my conscience.

I hope yours is the same, because the end will come anyway…

Mário De Andrade (October 9, 1893 – February 25, 1945)