five years

Five years went by. Years that laid forgotten by the side of a road. Those years witnessed many events as they were lying on the side. Failures and misfortunes, tragedies and joy. Happiness and sadness. Birth and death. The sun arose every morning, brightly and firmly as ever. New rays lighted the way day in day out. Year after year. Flowers came and went. Each year a blossoming spring emerged, turning into a lively summer, and then turning into the bright olors of autumn, eventually falling into the dark decay of winter. When something new was born, something old died. And I walked along that road, noticing everything but those years. I watched the changing seasons. I saw myself change. I thrived on the darkness of the winter, and basked in the warm sunlight of the summer. I was chasing a dream that was not there, too busy to realize it. I met many people, and passed many more by. I did much, but left more undone. Then came a crossroads. The road had came to its end. Thus faded the blossoms of my youth.

circle of memories

Each day I find something new in myself. Everyday is a new experience. I go around the same circle, yet it is different day in day out. Sometimes I do not like the man I am; yet I cannot escape myself. Forever trapped within. Trying to cope with it all. Not knowing where to go, yet remembering where have I come from.

I fall asleep as I lay on the couch. A distant memory strikes me between sleep and awake. A bar in the center of the city. Too much to drink. A long-gone crush sits next to me. Knowing that I have already lost the battle, I look into her eyes and say: "You should not be so depressed. Did you not know that who seeks shall find?" She does not believe in me. She looks back at me as if I am the stupidest person on earth, replying: "What a load of crap." I take another drink and drown my sorrow, looking into the dark night that lays wide open outside, offering limitless of possibilities. Telling me what to do..

I am not a religious person. Yet I am fascinated by the ideology that has shaped our culture for two thousand years.

...later I find myself deciphering what I tried to mean, but it just won't...

A faint cry wakes me up from my brief sleep. Quickly I change my thoughts. A transformation from the past to the future. Haunted by memories. Dying to make new ones that actually matter.

I have searched; have I found?