It is hardly exciting when all we do is go through the motions.
Truth is, I have been here for a long time and fast running on empty. Like a low fuel indicator that has been blinking for days, I long to either reach that eventual triumphant end or start afresh with a new humble beginning. Just thinking of the former tires me so, but I have yet to succumb to the very temptation of the latter.
I am not sure how far do I have left to go.
And so I am never really ever there, wherever that may be. I have been grievously hurt, and even time the healer has declared me hopelessly incurable; for I am a destiny unfulfilled and destination unknown, living in a cubism dream with words trickling out of me like a punctured wound that just would not mend.
Perhaps I am already empty, but really: stranger things have happened.