Every morning I wake up and I have to do the exact same thing. I'm tired of doing this, every morning of every day of every week of every year.
I feel like I've lost myself in this flow that is life, and that the feeling is absent and now I'm not sure what is present.
My thoughts are fluid but they never remain on any one thing, especially I. It’s hard to believe that right now is the now, and everything happens.
Why do I find it so hard to find everything real?
You sit there staring at yourself in the mirror but when you look away the moment is gone, and the reality fades away.
Your head turns back and your eyes lock once again, and this time things are different. Some thing seems to be clicking.
You take a moment to ponder but the enormity of the thoughts you touch upon overwhelms you completely.
You are satisfied though, that at least you’re getting somewhere.
You look forward to comprehension.
He walked out of the room with a smile on his face.
Someone who wasn't familiar with him might have thought him crazy.
But that was not the case.
The smile on his face was one of satisfaction.
Casually he took a pen and drew a line on the wall, called his grandfather over and soaked in his reaction.
He sighed with a smile.
This was life.