Why’s the world blue? Don’t we have enough? Every night I wonder, why does it have to be so big? Why can’t it be just next door? when I close my eyes, I hear questions with no answers. I see dreams with no definite ending. The world isn’t blue, it changes colours like skies. So many things go unnoticed, like a world beyond this world. Like the universe beyond the skies.
There is one way to know the value of something; let go. Like freedom. Why do you seize something and call it freedom? Isn’t it not wanting something that sets you free? Or is it the want? It’s a paradox. They say it’s not the destination, it’s the travel. Some believe it’s the destination which makes travel worthwhile. Having limits is disheartening, having no bounds is exhausting.
How exhausted must the skies be, for all the light, all the darkness, the winds and the storms. If the sky is one, why’s is different for everyone? If it’s not one but many, why is it the same everywhere? Either way, I see a slave to the routine or grave indifference.
Just as we are.