The unspoken words

The search for the dream

    I know, it happened again. And this time the same end came. I enter the game, pretending to have the best premonitions, but knowing that in the end the worst will happen that I would never have wished for. Disappointment, pain, suffering, again a period of daggers and doubts that sting and tear the soul and the heart already injured a million times. You can not expect the wave of water to refresh the sand, when you know that behind that tiny sand lies a huge desert. A desert in which a small cactus can hardly sprout, which, although resistant to drought, can not stand such emptiness and loneliness. Imagine, even a cactus that is resistant to everything, can withstand any drought, any storm, to defend itself with its thorns… Even that cactus can sometimes collapse and be destroyed. To make it disappear from that sand as if it never existed. To disappear and not a trace of him remains   

    Bead by bead, stone by stone, it all gathers and forms a vast desert. And it seems to have no end. You do not see it. Isn't the sun always behind the clouds? Isn't behind the clouds, the sky is always blue? And isn't there water behind the desert, somewhere far away? Water that springs and flows, maybe far from you, but still somewhere. I doubt I will ever be able to drink that water. That I will be able to enter that water, knowing that I will be able to swim calmly without drowning. To run from the sand and jump through its waves, knowing that somewhere deep down I can swim safely without touching the bottom. That I will be far above the bottom, at a height, away from him, looking at him from above, with peace and tranquility in me. It seems impossible. They say, everyone draws his own way. Your destiny. But what if fate is against you and always goes against your plans? When does every plan turn out the other way around? Maybe you should plan things the other way around so that they turn out right?

    And yes, it does hurt to be in the starting lineup. It hurts to be pushed and always lose your chances. To wait your whole life for a 6 to fall on a cube to turn another circle. And what next? You go through the same circle again, maybe with a different one, but in the end you are dumped again. It hurts to swallow the same tears, but always with a different taste. To walk on the road, crying and not being able to wipe your tears. There are not enough handkerchiefs to help you wipe away those tears. Tears that come like a river. Do not try to understand me. Because you will not achieve it.