It’s 1:05am Wednesday morning and as I lie on my bed exhausted (yes, I’m typing this as I try to lay for the night), the thought of yesterday (having much fun) keep coming to my mind: a full day of reharsing the guitar with ‘theStreet’ band, having a drink with my friend from Germany, and now typing this post on an extremely personal level. What’s even more personal:
Dying grasses, waning days.
The days of pleasure, the days of pain.
The comfort of leisure, the breaks of pain.
The times that come and go, times we wished we stay in forever.
Alas, those days are numbered – a feeling that the day of joy flies away sooner than we feel it.
What is happiness?
The feeling that flies while you wait, it comes it goes, faster.
I seek happiness, I’m I real?
Those days are numbered,
It comes never faster than I know.
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