Are You Searching Still?
Do you ever just pause and marvel at how quickly days seem to pass you by? And as the days pass you by, do you ever wonder what life is and has been? To you, around you?
Where are you? Have you been getting closer to what you are now? Or is this now, being in the now, still something you are chasing, seeking?
Fleeting moments, ever-changing meanings, this now is already lost, lost in time, which you too shall be someday. And if that day is now, what shall I tell myself about what my life is and has been? Maybe I couldn't, how could I? I thought I was still searching.
But even if I couldn't, as life passes me by and flashes before my eyes, there's something. Memories, voices, faces, my own echoes. There was something, there was life.
Silly of me to be searching still? Searching for something that's been inside me all along. But now, even when I know that, why can't I stop searching? Maybe this searching is what keeps me going; maybe this search is my fuel.
I'm a traveller, and these unforeseen roads are my home; without them, I am lost. Being lost in time is something I accept, but being lost within me is something I cannot bear. So, I search and wonder and keep on wondering and searching everywhere, till all these faces and voices become one, till all of it flashes in front of me one last time, till I'm lost in time forever.
This is me; this is no one. This was me; this was no one.
InvalidxBananas/1.02.