Today

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Looking at the same full moon, from the same spot a decade and a bit more years ago, today down the line, in his late twenties, he didn't feel the adrenaline rush of the list of ambitions and no dictates to change the world. He didn't want to reach the shining satellite. He didn't want to be in a spaceship. He didn't want to be an astronaut. H didn't want to fly.

He felt numb and desperate. He felt salty, deeply nostalgic and a bit lost. He is more powerless than he was a decade and a bit more years ago. He is tired of running around the circles of the illusion of age and the itchy times. How should he keep on perish and wait for nothing?

Aimless is no breath to him. Purposeless means bloodless veins to him. No imagination means blindness to him. He is the joker of his ever non-changing dynamic restless world.. How impossible! Where to? 

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