Life is finite. There’s no question about it; what we’ve got on this earth is going to come to an end. If it is seen as inevitable, the when and how don’t really matter. What matters is everything that comes before that point.

How does one measure an experience? It can make you happy, it can make you sad. In either case, it doesn’t last long, in the grand scheme of things. And as previously mentioned, it all comes crashing down at one point or another, so the value of a single experience is either very minimal, or meaningless entirely.

So really, the only way to measure the quality of a life is to measure the quantity of experiences. It literally doesn’t matter at all what you do, since each individual experience, value-wise, is no different from any other. There is only one thing that can stop the flow of experiences, and that is the end. One should accept death as inevitable, but in doing so, recognize that it is the only thing stopping the one point of life: to live.

It doesn’t matter what you do; just go out, and do.