Life is something very precious, very fragile.

Just moments ago, I took a jog around my neighbourhood - something very mundane, something not unlike what a normal person could had done. Halfway during my job however, I suddenly felt an impact from down under my shoe - I had crushed a snail without being aware of its presence, killing it instantly in the process. Seconds later, while crossing the road I had a close shave with death myself. I had initially made sure that the nearside lane is clear of incoming traffic from my right before turning my head left to check the traffic on the other lane of the road; by then I have started to lift my left foot off the pedestrian lane preparing to step onto the road when I then realised this increasing glare of light from my right - I froze. The next second felt like the longest second of my life as the yellow citicab dashed across the road just centimeters in front of me. The first image that came to my mind was that of a white flash, before I felt the gush of wind created by the speeding taxi then the revelation of how close i was, to death.

My life is as fragile as the snail that I stepped and crushed on. Had I just took a bigger step a little earlier, I would had met with the same end as I get knocked onto head on by the speeding taxi. It would not had been the taxi's fault by any chance as it has yet to flash green on the traffic light. So close, so fragile. How different are our lives from that of the snail that I've killed? Is it okay to feel wrong about killing another person but show absolutely no remorse about killing another living thing even if its not another human? What a chance event that set me thinking about what life's meaning may be.