Perchance to be

Ah yes!

To be!

What could I possibly be?
Me for one!

But, who am I?
Where are all of the answers that make up for the questions that I have been posing for the past thirty-something years.
I guess there are no better answers than the ones I look for in my heart.
Still, my heart wishes to be a temple of love and instead it has become a tomb of grief.

Not what I wish to be!
I want to be that party where every body is invited and they all look forward for the upcoming occasion.
Still, a long the way, I lost some track on how to organize myself as a party.
I dwell too much on the limitations of a situation, rather than appreciating the abilities that I have acquired for the past years.
Perchance I wanted to be more at this point.

True.
I wanted to be better than most and slightly less vain than all.

Wrong.
Is my attitude towards life.
To covet what is not mine.
I guess that I wonder too many times on what things may come, without actually enjoying the beauty that stands before me.
I eagerly wait for the end of days.
Not of life
Not of the world
But the end of days that I thought were the right ones for me.

I get no satisfaction any more.
I have cursed the landed that allowed me to experience a bit of heaven and a glimpse of hell.
It is curious, however, that I had 2 weeks of heaven and 12 hours of hell at that pearl in the Adriatic sea, and the moments that linger the most are the 12 hours.
They linger in such way that I look at the map and I shiver from the suffering it inflicted on my permeable soul.
The reason why it still lingers in my heart, is that I gathered 2 weeks of fuel, and it seems unlimited.

Imagine if you had a tank in your car so big, that you could fill it for 2 weeks without stop.
How many kilometres would you travel until you ran out of fuel?
In my perspective I have a couple of months ahead of non-stop travelling until the fuel of love runs out.
Meanwhile, I perchance redefine my character.
Alas, I do not appreciate what I see.
I want more.
Could I possibly get it?
what I want it is not mine to claim, nor mine to demand for.

What I want lies in the will of another.
Someone who remains silent.
Who fails to  see the importance of sharing.
Not an hello, but rather feelings in the farm of attitudes or words.
So is the loneliness of the moment.

What am I ?

I am the lonely passenger of the empty train heading to Siberia, not knowing what dreams may come, but realizing that possibly dreams are just to give you a hint, and not to be literally lived.
I am the one, who would jump out of a plane for love
but instead got a I don't know.

I always thought I deserved much more than a I don't know.
In my feelings I knew that I could get a yes I do.
But possibly I have burnt so many souls in my travels that I guess that now is my time to taste the poison.

Paradise was good.
But the hell unfortunately stings like a bitch and abandons me rarely.

You know what I want?
Perchance to be
Happy!