Looking for something better, something higher than what I have been doing, what I have been feeling.
That all of this is just someone else’s bad dream, that I really do not exist.
Finding very little in life that is worth the effort.
Growing older by the minute.
Feeling the passions of hunger and having no one to help me quench this thirst.
It all becomes much too real.
Money, possessions, and that there comes a time when I have to be willing to let it all go.
If we let it, what we own can end up consuming us, becoming slaves to the material world.
In the last full measure of time, I find myself feeling the need to keep on moving, trying to forget the meaning of this thing called life.
The days slip away much to quickly, but do we have any knowledge of the passage of time?