Looking out of my bedroom window, I saw the city moving.I went back to sleep.
Random thoughts escape me.The beauty of life...it's all random.It's a riddle that very few get.What was I saying?Oh. Random thoughts escape me.
Blurred.Time and Space.What is it really?Where is it really?Somehow, I have lost track of it all.Blurred.
Somewhere between the beginning and the end, there is a life worth living.
Is it my reflection I see in this murky, slimy pond, or is it the murky, slimy, pond that sees my reflection?
I wonder if I just sit still...still enough in this beautiful garden, if my soul will blossom or wither away?
Somewhere at the end of the winding road before me, "I see light at the end of the tunnel," ceases to be a metaphor.