I can’t contain myself.
I’ve tried and tried and kept trying for the longest time. But none of this ever worked. Of course, as I burn all of this down and after the ashes have been blown away, it comes back to what it always was- mistakes and regrets. Every day is a chase and a terrible rush. And honestly, none of this makes any more sense.
I did experiment alternatively. I tried to become and stay. it took me far enough or so I thought. I wasn’t sure if going far was the right thing because I’ve gone so far that coming back isn’t easy, or maybe even impossible. Maybe all of this was in bad faith for all I know and maybe it was all a mess because it was all in a haste and in a haze.
I needed an escape.
I look at the empty frame by my bookshelf. Much like myself, the frame was waiting for the right moment. A moment to cherish and a story to tell. Although neither the frame nor myself were sure of this. Regardless, it was a reason that kept me looking forward to newer days. Dispute the every day saturation, I was okay with this. I’d love an escape. I didn’t want something that took me far away from this and eventually returned me to where I started. I needed a new chapter.
This chapter’s end was long due. I guess, the fact that this has come to an end is a reason to cherish for a while. Maybe it was time for that escape. Maybe now the frame would get the right picture. I was looking forward to this. It wasn’t redemption at all, I had no reason for any.
It was time.


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