As you grow old you start to forget two things:
First, who you were.
Second, I don’t remember.
How does ‘Sad‘ really feel like?
Is ‘old‘ really ‘sad‘?
If sad was a person, would you not pity on his condition or hers?
Does it not worry you to find out people don’t feel the same way anymore?
Does it not strangle you to death to witness that one people who you loved with all your heart, change?
Or why else would we feel too much, love too much and get hit back hard, really hard?
With that nityy-gritty emotions rummaging the voyageur into the back of our minds, turning its heels and reminding us the same what every single person in our lives would_that nothing, almost nothing remains. Like we were never anything.
But, we miss being missed by someone.
And that’s the end of it!
Because I remember nothing no more.
I don’t remember how it felt like just vividly staring at the vintage dark sky and imagining all the cosmos and their phenomena.
I don’t remember if I ever had any desire of being desired beyond all the faiths and fortunes.
I don’t remember laying down under the crescent moon and wondering how one can become more beautiful just by hiding themselves from the rest of the world.
I don’t remember what happened to me when I decided to leave behind all that I adored the most. All that I ever wanted. Everything.
I don’t remember if anyone escaped calling me arrogant.
I don’t remember if someone even called me a jerk.
Why? Because I stopped. I stopped feeling.
And I don’t remember how it was like to be loved.
I just don’t. And the desire to understand is lingering no more.
For I truly am ‘Alive No More’.
Alive No More.