Survival is get up, eat and get ready for the day. Work, go home, do some mindless activity, get ready for bed  and sleep. Each day has the same structure, the same form.

Two things break me out of that; friends and books. Time with these fuels my heart to beat for more. More than day-after-day drudgery, more than simply fulfilling obligations.

With these, days are morning cuddles with my car and music that fills a peaceful house. They are short  laughing conversations with my co-workers, or the way the sunlight hits the rain-laden clouds during my commute. They are the little moments of breath-stealing beauty in a good novel or my siblings' jokes. They are the clean feeling after a shower, and the soft warmth that curls around my bones when I bundle into bed for the night.

And this is living.