If this world was mine...

He is living as if destined to live forever; his own frailty never occurs to him; he doesn't notice how much time has already passed, but squanders it as though he had a full and overflowing supply, though all the while that very day which he is devoting to somebody or something may be his last. He acts like mortals in all that he fears, and like immortals in all that he desires. He puts off things he really wants to do until or he thinks he can take a break only when he earns a certain amount of money, or buys a new home, or gets to become a father or reconcile his family. Not really contemplating that it ties him to working until he falls apart, perhaps doing something he hates, for as long as he can hold on.