Why are living rooms called ‘living’ rooms?

                “You live here, don’t you?” – Jim

                “Who lives?” – Judy

-- Rebel Without A Cause

 Who lives in a society taken over by the generation of people who pretend that they know what they are doing? Who lives in the era where individuals are no longer unique and have lost their purpose to conformity on radical but rather causeless, senseless rebellion manifested by so-called freedom of being? Who lives as human when the only closest to becoming is be a person with drive kept from the inside because fear, violence, and social horror are meddling in the mind that they end up bodies with dead souls?

Who lives, really?

The answer could be US, but they killed us all. They—who lost the chance—killed us all because we let them…we even helped them to do so.

We watch television in our living room; sit for a while then lie afterwards; hear news of tremendous attacks on neighboring states, striking poverty to families left out by civilization, and simply political craps; we murmur, we sympathize, but then we do nothing. Do we live?

We scroll through our phone’s screen; read another rumor about celebrities, listen to new music released by international artists, order latest products that came off the market—everyone’s going gaga about the trend. Everything is new, everything is latest, except for that another picture of another kid who takes his own life and everyone blames anyone. We cared too much for the wrong things.

We lie awake thinking about all the things we should have done, could have done but never really have the courage to do it. We stay awake because the thought is creeping in our mind until we realize: it’s 3:56AM and we haven’t really accomplished anything. Do we even live?

We dig our own grave holes with all the capability left in us; bury ourselves in loneliness because failure is all we have succeeded, and cover our holes with the soil we dug hoping someone to be around and rescue us for we fail to recognize that it is no one but we, ourselves alone, can save us from our own torment of existence.

But what does it really mean to live?

We almost forgot because we stayed too long in our living room not living, but merely existing. Living doesn’t mean we have to go out or have some friends come over nor does it mean we have to move a lot or talk a lot. 

Living means keeping alive for the things we can’t die without having experienced. Living means actually doing those things. Living means having our own sense of purpose despite of the society telling us what to do. Living means recognizing our worth even when others can’t, even when others don’t, even when others won’t.

Read that book; watch that film; write your story; paint your emotion; play an instrument; take a photo; hike a mountain; swim with the fishes; meet new people; whatever it is, go see that great perhaps. Life is meant to be lived.

If your living room keeps you from living then don’t call it your ‘living’ room. Stop living in a room. Start a room for living.