I trudged along, up a hill, each resounding step stealing into the realm of silence. A warm sunny day, it was, one charmed to lure you out yonder. Each tiny leaf of grass and flower of weed wrapped with the mystic glow, reflecting the warmth of the sun. Isolated, the land of dreams - far removed from the bounds of every precipice and even of peripheral reality.
Gaeity in stride, crushing beneath what was parasitically painful - I moved on. The walk was long but the dawn of day didn't seem to want to meet its better half and much rather seemed to be drawing away from the hazy warmth of dusk. The anonymous bliss of one who had shed a burden far too heavy - to walk away, indifferent, unmindful, free, sans a touchstone.
Each step held greater renowned meaning. There was much to look forward to, as Pollyanna would have put it. What will tomorrow be? - I cannot say. But what is evident, 'beyond reasonable doubt', is the transient temporal cosmos within which our existence takes a new turn every living second. It is all very well when many a wise man will have tread paths untrodden and pass on words of wisdom but that which we unfortunately fail to imbibe.
If we cannot live for the present, then what are we living for? - Reveling in dreams past will not make the ride ahead any easier, rather dream on, don't stop. Somewhere down the line, when you're running out of gasoline and hope is a word whose meaning doesn't hold anymore, from the midst of nowhere, that hand you've always waited for will bail you out.
Until then, trudge on and never look back.
