I don't like to talk about my past.
Why is it that I am always left...standing on this endless threshold? Being carried forward by the currents of time.
I hate not being - in the moment.
And there is nothing I can do.
All I remember of my life is in moments. And as much as I hold them dear - I don't want to go back.
But I am always looking back. Analyzing. Reflecting.
And looking ahead. Hoping. Dreaming.
And I keep breathing. I keep living. From the moment of my birth I have been relegated to this endless cycle.
Coming back to where I have been.