I've not written for quite some time, as these days I live in a state of uneventful suspense, vacillating in the boundary between hope and resignation. I keep myself occupied with plain everyday chores and activities, which keep me sane and which give me a sense of utility and purpose. For others, this arrangement may be adequate, but for my restless soul, it isn't.

I've always yearned and dreamt for more; it is not greed, but boundless curiosity. I long to be in places where I am not right now, do things I am not doing now, know things I do not know now.

There is so much in the present order of things that makes me dissatisfied. I can be like this for the rest of my life. It will cease and end (both literally and figuratively) when I come face to face with my own grave marker, which says that I will have died. By that time the truths I pursue now will all be within reach.