Sometimes I sit outside, watch the birds, squirrels, and bugs. I feed the birds and ducks. I relive moments of my youth in my head, and then go home only to face reality. I reflect on who I was, and then the life I am currently living. The life I currently live is out of obligation. Very few things bring me happiness as they did in my youth. The monotony of becoming older brings sadness to my heart from one second to another.
I suffer from a subtle depression; one that keeps me hoping for something totally brand new. While I wait for this, my body and mind decomposes further every day.
I am not a sad person, but one conditioned to morbidity as life is flying past my eyes. I climb mountains and trudge through sand every day, only to try to find that oasis that can sustain my soul.
If I die trying to find this place, at least the journey will be memorable.