They haunt us.
They bring tears.
They torment.
They bring clouds.
They delude us.
They age us.
They're wonders.
In each of us, we obtain mass thoughts and opinions that form a memory box. To obtain this box, we have to live. Live and let live.
.
I wish I could live in my memories. Or better yet, live in my dreams. Where anything could happen, and nothing could hurt me. Where my desires and needs are never dash. I can reach beyond my limits and see what is in front of me. I want to stop reaching for what's not there. The disappointment of being hopeful. Ah the pain. I reach into my heart and pull out air. There is nothing there. Wait, there is something there. A preset of challenges. Could I doubt myself any further? To see deeper into myself. I need to see to believe.
.
Dimming lights should mean a new scene. A change of scene. A new beginning. My lights go out one by one, dragging the agony days after days, months after months. The scene is not over until all my lights are out. I want a new beginning. To start afresh from my wrongs. But there's no escape. I have to pay for my deeds. Whistles sound from afar. But never is it my train.
Ciao!
