I have a belly full of regret and a mouth full of words I've held back. My mind is steeped in fear, this fear of walking down a path I will grow to hate. And I am scared. So very scared that this feeling will never pass. I am a leaf tumbling in this autumn wind, moving with a will that is not my own. Those roots of optimism I was once anchored to, seem a fading memory of summertime.
I find myself with no heroes, nothing to be inspired by and very little to emulate. Your voice gets hoarse if you are the only one singing the war cry above the melee of life. Your limbs tire from pushing against the current- we are not like salmon, however much we try. And finally your heart doubts, festering with indecision and questions, until it is changed irrevocably.
I can only blame myself.
I always knew what my purpose was, because doing it made me happy and it felt the way birds must feel when they graze the heavens. It was a seed of an idea, a wisp of a beginning of what I wanted from this short time here. It didn't matter about money or material possession, which probably was the flaw in my idea. Happiness is an act and it seems that ambition that is not materialistic is a goal for fools. And what I would give to be part of that troupe.
Nothing would have happened anyway. I live by the book of rules and I will most likely die under its weight. Trying to deviate from this road, yet never touching the grass that lies beyond the lines that are drawn for me. The mind-made cage is ever-present.
These colours of my soul will slowly drain away, washed pale by the waters I sometimes try to swim against.
Until nothing remains but duty.
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