Argh! It’s cold outside, I just got here and I can’t seem to move anymore. I paused for a break, and now I’m starting to prefer the comfort of the ground that I reside. The crevice; the cement that bound these two bricks together, it seems to fit my foot perfectly. A foot that has appeared to travel far; a foot that is now starting to hurt. I did my best to inch forward, I did my best not to stop. The sun rose and it set, whilst the weather cycled through many of its seasons. All of it; all that I see, it all just zooms by. I’ve started to learn that there are just some things that transcend my sovereignty; one whose residency is the shell that I carry. Is it my life’s purpose to somehow make the most of this minuscule fragment of space? Do I have jurisdiction of anything beyond it?
I’ve been itching to find the answer, and though I try with every essence of my body I may never truly know, because that is the cruel fate of reality. I am bound by this horrid thing that I call home. I can’t live without it, but at the same time, I can’t go anywhere with it. So, although it feels like I’ve been travelling forever, every time I look back I am reminded, that I haven’t gone very far, because I see that I am indeed in the same place as I was yesterday. I am well aware of this fact; yet it is a pill I can’t seem to swallow, simply because I have memories that put me to a halt. I’ve seen time fly by, the weather change and I know that I have been travelling for far longer than yesterday. Surely, all my efforts have amounted to something…right? To get here, I have had to travel for my whole life- but was it all worth it? I see that having this option is both a blessing and a curse; an option too idealistic to execute but also too reckless to abort. Why should I travel any further? Is it that bad to stop? Should I live or just die here? I guess I’d better decide before carrying on any further; excuse me whilst I figure it out from inside.
I apologise if I seem dismissive -I’m just naturally introverted.