Always connected to this!

Boast of Quietness

Writings of light assault the darkness, more prodigious than
meteors.
The tall unknowable city takes over the countryside.
Sure of my life and death, I observe the ambitious and would
like to understand them.
Their day is greedy as a lariat in the air.
Their night is a rest from the rage within steel, quick to attack.
They speak of humanity.
My humanity is in feeling we are all voices of that same poverty.
They speak of homeland.
My homeland is the rhythm of a guitar, a few portraits, an old
sword, the willow grove’s visible prayer as evening falls.
Time is living me.
More silent than my shadow, I pass through the loftily covetous
multitude.
They are indispensable, singular, worthy of tomorrow.
My name is someone and anyone.
I walk slowly, like one who comes from so far away he doesn’t
expect to arrive.

- Jorge Luis Borge

The pedestrian

It was a beautiful evening but Romy had to walk, he had to cross the bridge and hillock, long way to go, his shoes were wearing off, his body aching like hell, his mind numbed by the scars of past and his eyes filled with regret, guilt and self pity. He had been a looser, in each and everything he had laid his hands on, but as always he kept walking, he had lost and lost again and again but that thin line between defeat and the acceptance of defeat was still uncrossed ,so he walked and walked trying to move away from the clutch of circumstance away from the cobwebs of past, which never stopped haunting him.

He thought of Jess, and some beautiful summers they had spent together in the willows.He remembered how every beautiful spark he had ever had in his life left always was a sweet pain to begin with and a deep scar to finish up.Maybe he was always focusing on the ends not the means, maybe his means was series of ends, maybe he was always trying to have a rebound.

But this was it, he had to walk, get to the top, he was three shots down, both bullets and whiskey, he needed to sleep, he was gonna be gone forever, this was gonna end, then nothing was gonna matter, but he still needed to make the last few steps, deliver his last job, was it this compulsive need, which had been the problem or was it "i have to do this but i dunno why"..............he fell down,he rolled he died.

Not all stories have a happy ending.

He wakes up somewhere in heaven, free, easy, no hurry to do something , no worries of getting somewhere, his life had just begun.