What life do you want to live?
As a person who is not endowed with a congenital and genuine sense of gratitude toward life, I am always in search of something that I am deemed unable to get. I know frustrations and the feelings of sorrowful yearning pretty well.
Maybe I simply want a "better" life, for the days on earth is too valuable to be taken lightly? Or maybe I just do not want to settle for less ...yet?
Could it be that I just want to strive that little bit more and see where I can get?
Could it be that I somehow compare too much my own story with the glamour in other people's so-called life, and in doing so I despise yet regret?
Or could it be that I so achingly remember fragments of the dim old days in which my pastel-coloured vision was obstructed by chaos and sadness?
Well, what is remembered is remembered. What had been forgotten sunk into the black box of consciousness, and from where they occasionally emerge in gloomy hues... through my dreams.
Dreams are carriers. So weightless yet so heavy.
I do not understand, and am not understood.
Biological clock is one matter, psychological sandglass is another. The two pace in huge discrepancies.
I have to catch up, yet I wish to stay. I want to lament, yet I ought not idle away.
* * * * * * * *
Somehow, somewhere, there is always (at least) one missing piece in life.
People say the missing piece is what keeps you going; and flaws make beauty complete. A life about love is one in which you feel pain. Love is an ability, not a feeling. Love endures hurts.
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