Contemplation

It is not the first time I am doing this; revisiting memories has always cheered me up since I was a teenager. Places of the past mingled with the mist of my future took me to a world where my present stood in front of me in a different light.

Leaning against the parapet of my terrace, I watched the stars intently as my eyelids fluttered, my senses were slowly giving in to the intoxication of open air.

I had traversed many a city on foot and many others in my mind. There were days when the clouds mimicked my motion, trying to share my tension on dreary mornings and evenings lit up by traffic lights, taking away the boredom surrounding me. I couldn’t see many flowers blossoming, and this used to irk me always. Not many people could bother me except for a few whose orders I could not refuse; they were the only source of distraction in my world, but I never ran out of entertainment because of them. Streams of sorrow, blinding my eyes, often got mixed with raindrops or left stains on my pretty kerchiefs; an hour of star gazing healed me back into the bright sunny person that I always had been. Wherever I have been, one hope has never left my side: I will be happy. For this, I am what I am.

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