Motion

I can't remember when I truly felt I am living my life. I feel like I lose a part of me as the days go. Apparently comfort doesn't suffice and make you alive. Comfort makes it edible, but not incredibly delicious. Comfort makes you become a settler instead of a reacher. Comfort makes you feel content, not boundary pushing.

How is it possible that comfort doesnt bring assurance; when mediocre contentment doesn't make you truly happy; how can you be good at something, but not love it?

I lose track of whether this is what it's all about. I wonder whether two different songs can fit into one harmony. I wonder whether it will come with time, whether it's commitment or instinct.

I wonder, can you feel content and keep moving? Content of the motion you are in?

Stagnancy kills, your soul, if not your life. Why do we see the broken pieces only when it's already gone tasteless?

I tore inside and I don't exactly know why.

Please just be there when I am.