Running out of Time.

All of the music in the world is not enough to free me from the pain of this constant hunger for life. For time. But writing seems the only thing that makes sense right now. I have this feeling that my brain is like a gathering of intertwined vicious cycles where thoughts are running everywhere. And I am always running out of time. I feel stuck in this big race for something that does not even exist.

I am always looking for these little particles of truth, and always trying to put them in order, just to understand what is happening to me. Looking for this eternal moment of truth. This revelation that would save me from me. In this big quest for clarifications, for decisions, and for resolutions, my brain goes back in time, trying to explain the failures, and analyzing every decision I have ever made. I get stuck in these tiny little memories that keep coming back, I start giving interpretations to every single meaningless thing that happened. And this restless entanglement of unrelated ideas is constantly torturing me. Until my mind reaches a state of complete chaos, and I can’t handle it anymore.