And then there are lists. Lists of things you need to attain, lists of things you need to avoid and lists of things you love and value. And even when you exhaust the list the peace is still nowhere to be seen and the mind is a restless creature, it takes off on its own neurotic, distracting flights. Thus follows endless nights of drinking, renewed trysts with old vices and the omnipresent flirtation with exploration of taboos and dark crevasses. With no end game in sight and no real destination to travel to, I do wonder at times why not put an end to all of it? After all, I am your ideal candidate for that - I am depressed out of my mind most times, cynical, insecure and lost in every imaginable way. So, why not?
Most times the answer is the creature called hope. The creature that comes alive during those fleeting and increasingly rare instances, when in a single insignificant moment or gesture it can light up your puny, dark existence in a single swoop, lifting it to heights neither drug nor man can ever take you to. Other times it is just the curiosity to seek out things that I have not yet seen, to look under the many stones that I have not yet turned over, to meet and get to know a million other people I have not yet met or known. The curiosity to see what lies around the corner and be wiser for the knowledge - be it good or bad - in the company of someone special or even if it is again just me alone, again.