Life is loosely based on losing sight of the silver lining on the cloud, On trying to hold on to that one distant memory that is slowly slipping away.
Itβs based on the challenges that come, and finding their solutions. Also, itβs based on the days when inspiration is lost, or when you get that one special feeling and try not to lose your hold of it. Eventually, you hope not to be grasping at thin air.
When you find yourself doing this, the thrill you've felt steadily seeps out like a drenched sponge being pressed until dry.
Life is a flower on a continuous cycle: sprouting, growing, blooming, withering, and soundlessly letting go of existence and time on earth, eventually giving way to whatever one believes comes next.
Furthermore, life is loosely based on its connection to death.