Literary escapades

If from the darkness comes the light how much light can years of darkness create... Can there be light at all in the edge of the darkest darkness? Is it possible or it's just another carrot luring you to keep walking when the only sane choice is to officially give up... Light might be just a fiction, unattainable dream like everything else that never come to be. Why endless run along shabby hallways with turns and slippery surface underneath, with muffled voices ahead, with dying away sounds and ever reliving itself days. Light is just an illusion of hope  professing to be around one of these corners. It won't happen no matter how much you try to deceive yourself in order to carry on this charade called life. One day there comes a realization - beginning and end are connected in one giant circle that doesn't allow to step out, leave, or vanish. There's no direction, dreams are fiction, efforts futile. Time doesn't exist, it never did. I don't exist, it

Those tiresome tears that burn from inside Unable to hide in treacherous corners Unconsciously wishing they could be a river With turbulent current to sweep all around... No days to remember No places to visit No names, no voices In obvious vacuum The world might as well be a different planet As foreign and empty as alien landscape With everything buried away from the glances

I am giving up on people. I'm giving up on trust and expectations.  I'm giving up on irrelevant days, things and events.  Time is precious. People unreliable like weather. In the end you are the only one you can truly trust.  That's all that counts.  No expectations - no disappointments,  no trust - no deception. As simple as that. Clean and detached. Attachments create dependency, disfunction, desperation and hopeless circle.  Freedom is everything. Without it life isn't worth living. Freedom, purpose, clarity of mind - all you need to move forward with dignity and self worth.  Emotional clutter aside. Distractive attachments aside. Past and present aside. They don't matter.   Future does. The only thing that does  even if you only catch a glimpse of it gliding on the edge of the horizon.