Journals
Friday,Nov 12 2004, 02:40:24 AMUncertain
Is this the way that I'm moving, so slow that I can't catch up? I take the longest path to run, round and round the same old circle. I meet weird people all along, they seem to care for me but sometimes they ignore.
I seem to forget my destination and I wonder have the falling offs damaged my vessels. I can't think, I can't judge, I just can't.
I take a little rest down the deserted street. Then I start to recite, the chants of prayers I give to the passers-by, for would they hear me?
I recall some helping hands approaching me which I fail to grab; hypocritical floods my mind. I'm too dreadful of anything, everything.
I don't know how much more I can step on but things don't seem to look good. I'm losing my sight, staring at the thwarted front.
Thursday, 11 November, 2005