Cold air slap my face. The chilly breeze frizz my hair. Thick cluster of gray clouds floated low in the almost unseen sky.
Rain is coming.
As I gaze at the darkening sky, I found myself thinking past my life and a question that seems so easy to answer, is quite difficult now that I think about it.
How's my life been?
This past eighteen years. . . . .those very long years and all I could have answer is another question.
Had it been good?
Wrong answer? Or wrong question?
Had it been good?
yes, it had been good.
I can answer as simple as that and there would still... a lingering but in the air.
But
something is lacking. . .
And then this very word would kick me: ungrateful
Ungrateful that comes next after being hit by Thesaurus for not being content.
Contentment, an illusion.
A dream nonetheless.
I know . . .
I specialized in the degree of DISPLEASURE, double major in UNGRATEFULNESS.
And I have mastered it for years and years. . . And olla . .
CONGRATULATIONS! I'm not yet done.
Just great!
In this degree, being content is always short lived.
Too short for a variety of point of views
That could mean so sweet, almost tasted like toothache waiting to happen. . .
a fantasy or a nightmare dress like a daydream
Could mean so aggressive,
to acquire a goal
Or could be so tough, so vile, to gain
Power for greed
Or
Is it just a plain kind of selfish whim, a bore.
Contentment... A whim? A bore?
Who knows?
Do I?
And yet here I am.
searching for that nagging craving. . . .of short lived.....
Of an unknown.
And it scares me.
It scares me that I don't know what I'm looking for.
If it is something that I must feel,
Something to see,
Should know,
Could touch. . .hear.
Anything....random things.......to read, to speak
Practice.what.you.preach.
And that brought me here
looking beyond the setting sun behind those skyscrapers,
Searching for those mountains beyond
wondering what will I become
if I fall from this edge. . .
Who will cry for me?
Who would care?
Who would remember?
Rotten piece of life, good life that I'm not sure if it was really made for me,
wasted years of selfishness and ungratefulness
What am I doing?
What am
I looking for?
One step
Just one more step and this would end. ?
I look up.
what would I become?
--------------------------------------------
Seventeen Twenty Forty Seven
📖2014
Any character names, settings and events typewritten in the story is based on fictional figments of the writer's imagination.
Disclaimer
Still Incomplete ....continuation is a struggle
so don't be surprise if it takes quite some time to move forward
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Seventeen Twenty Forty-Seven
General FictionIf I had known death would be much boring than my wasted life, I shoudn't have let myself die.
