Smiling, I ask only for one simple, little wish… that one day the world would happen to me. And yet, through our eyes, that’s all each one of us will ever know. Just one story. And I wonder, is it enough to sustain curiosity, especially within the finite boundaries of only a single perspective? Are we justified to sit within the frame of a closed window, waiting for our life to happen? So much time is wasted, and we frivolously give it away; well, I suppose it isn’t entirely our fault. We never knew we had so much of it to begin with. Or so little. Isn’t that interesting? 

It isn’t fair to ask for impossible things, and I don’t ask for them now. I cannot ask for the clock to stop ticking, or the song to be replayed, or to see that one person ever again for the rest of my life. Things happen so quickly, and it’s no wonder that so many opportunities can leak through our fingers like water. Ideas can be lost as quickly as smoke folds itself away neatly in air. It’s funny to think that no one is ever satisfied. Either everything happens to us, or nothing does. But it all depends upon the eyes through which we see, and with whom these moments are spent. Those memories are always the ones that matter. 

I desire adventure, and no quest is greater than the one we each will take, deep in our own jungles. Deep and dark; beautiful and full of mystery. I like it here.