A world of fragments all around me and my mind slowly drifts. From one, then the next, then back again. Never still. Never focused. Always lost amidst such light and sound.
And when there is no focus, then there can be no growth.
And when there is no growth, all that’s left is to decay.
Within decay I wallow. Mind trapped. No way out.
A door exists. I have seen it in my dreams. A door to hope. A door to laughter. Door to love and light and life. But I cannot find it, cannot reach it. I only wander in the darkness.
And day by day this world moves on, and I’m left to grow old and weak. A man of withered skin and frail bones, fading mind lost to the haze.
Should I not gain wisdom as I age? Confidence? Insight into the reason of all things?
Where is my lamp to cast away the darkness and reveal the door I cannot see?
Why am I just as confused? Just as lost? Drifting across this endless sea within which dwells nothing and everything, always all at once and not at all.
Nothing lives and all things die, and in that dying is the only truth.
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