The Slaves of Time

You, it's you again...
You, the embodiment of fears and suspicion.
You, the black point in a long and bright tunnel. Fear, that is always there, even in the loud and happy laughter. The suspicion that is cankering your soul inside, even when you're sure that the decision is right. Right? Which is the right? Who decided what's right and what's wrong? Who is responsible? Who is the judge?
Wrong? Who is wrong? You or them? Them, who judge and consider it wrong. You, who listens to them and obeys.
It's funny. Somebody woke up today and decided that you are wrong and the same evening you go to bed, thinking that he was right. The next morning you will wake up in a chaos, lost in a metal coil of right and wrong, which is impossible to uncoil. A metal coil that keeps getting bigger and bigger and becomes a part of you. And then? Then the coil gets even bigger and now you yourself are a part of the giant coil, the coil of endless thoughts that is slowly destroying you. You spill out your anger at the others, at the people who are right, at the ones who are wrong. You get mad even at the random passers, at the people who are important to you and at the ones about whom you don't even care.

And then? It's like a cruel game with strange rules which you don't even know who had created. And then? This is also one of the rules, after each step you have to ask yourself  "And then?". And then? Then will be then, later, it will come when it will be needed, when the right time comes. But no! We still ask ourselves every second "And then?". Seems like we are also a calendar or a greedy clock that keeps counting each second. And then? Whats' the next? What will you do after this? And we become the slaves of these questions. We don't let ourselves breath. And then? What's after taking a breath? After taking a breath you exhale. And then? Then you take a breath again and so on and on, forever, nonstop. And then? Then you run, you run in order not to be late. We run and don't even have any time  to look back, to look back and realize how much we have missed while running, how much we have left behind...

                                                                                                                             © LiLit Ghazaryan