Living the Dream

It’s odd to have spent your year waiting for something. Though whatever sensation the waiting carries, it is nothing compared to the actual experiencing of what has been anticipated. The period I have waited for has now drenched me, but I fail to drown in it. Caught in the moment’s showers, I still only see the future again, as if trained by habit, accustomed to maintaining a gaze set in the distance, the dream I have waited for slips me by. And I realise, no matter if waiting, or making wild flings at attempts to savour the awaited, the days, all the days, they run away like wild horses over the hills.

About Sam

Hi I'm Sam and I write here exclusively at Samuel's Travels. Exclusively as by and large no-one wants me writing anywhere else. Please enjoy yourself while reading.
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2 Responses to Living the Dream

  1. Dan Cat says:

    happiness is a journey, not a destination.

  2. Bubs says:

    Love it. In its brevity, its wistful resignation, its restraint and its imagery, the piece reads as if translated from the Japanese. Channeling Murakami channeling a classical Japanese author?

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