Another day is over and out of fear that the life of my dream is over, I begin the submission into the night.
Haven’t you ever wondered “What will be if I won’t wake up tomorrow? What will happen if I will cease to exist?”
I ask myself these questions every eve and try to meditate by sitting Zazen upon the vanity of things, and yet something keeps letting me wake up. Maybe it’s the Chronus lord of time, or Apollo the god of the sun or maybe just biology and my heartbeat. I don’t know, to tell you the truth, it’s just it. It happens and I’m here day after day, week after week, month after month. Till that last heartbeat, last chance for the ever living dream of success. But what is a success you may ask me, and I will answer it’s the simple things as money from the job you love doing, love from a woman you love seeing and country you love being in.
I don’t have any of those, maybe just a bit of the country part, but even there not entirely.
I sit and tap upon those keys as a monkey in search of myself. In the search for an answer. Maybe it will come. I pray for it every day and yet I’m here. Here with nothing but the empty dream that keeps on ruining my life. Maybe I’m not worthy but I think I should proceed so that someone would understand how vain the pain is. How vain the joy is. How vain the vanity is.