My blinking eyes and storming pace suddenly halted when they realized my playlist had stopped playing; indicating the death of my cell phone battery.
Any dramatic person would anticipate a sudden wild storm, ringing of bells of a temple nearby, and feel like being demonstrated in a monochrome scene. I would love to see myself overacting too but that didn't happen for sure.
I could see the roads that lead me to my home. I knew that following that particular path will help me get where I want to. All I could think of getting somewhere during that chilly night was home. That was all I wanted.
* * *
That was me, just a year back.
A year back,
Bundles of thoughts were different from what I have now.
Boxes of ideas were stitched together with lists of experiments.
A year forth,
Old dreams are evaporated into clouds and have been shed as rain.
A year back,
Bundles of thoughts were different from what I have now.
Boxes of ideas were stitched together with lists of experiments.
A year forth,
Old dreams are evaporated into clouds and have been shed as rain.
And when I look up to the clouds, I don't think about the same things anymore.
This is what going along the same path over and over again has resulted.
Walking down on the same road, knowing the path for years, doing the same daily chores and yet, things have drastically changed. And I feel like the way home is the only thing that hasn't changed a bit.
Amidst the broken street lamps, accompanied by the luminous moon above, I can still clearly differentiate between the roads that lay ahead. The loud lightning incites a sudden feeling of fear and willingness to head home quickly. A few minutes and I'll be home, I repeat twice.
This is what going along the same path over and over again has resulted.
Walking down on the same road, knowing the path for years, doing the same daily chores and yet, things have drastically changed. And I feel like the way home is the only thing that hasn't changed a bit.
Amidst the broken street lamps, accompanied by the luminous moon above, I can still clearly differentiate between the roads that lay ahead. The loud lightning incites a sudden feeling of fear and willingness to head home quickly. A few minutes and I'll be home, I repeat twice.
But wait,
Do I really want this all over again?
Do I want to walk the same path again?
Do I want to reach places I never planned to?
Do I ...
Maybe a part of me still does. Maybe I do want to go home that way and wrap myself with warm blankets to sleep. Maybe it's all just in my head.
Or maybe I'm just tired. Tired of doing things the way they are told to. Tired of walking the safe roads that lead home. Tired of telling people it's okay when you know it's not.
I realize it's time to change the road I take to home.
It has been almost two decades of my life, and I have been walking on the same path for too long. Of all those things I have come to learn, understanding that Home isn't a place made me question all the choices I have been making for the sake of being at home.
Now, it's time to go home.
But by roads that lead me to nowhere.
And maybe that is where I hug my home.
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