Day 270: Life Is As Good As What You Make Of It

It is two in the morning and everybody's asleep. Well, that's almost everybody, because if you can read this post that only mean that I am not sleeping, not yet, anyway. I did not want to sleep because when I sleep it will be Your face that I see, it will be Your face that I will be dream of. So, instead of a slumber, I chose to keep myself awake.

Someone I overheard saying that Life is as good as what one would make of but maybe I just didn't buy it. I mean, if there's always this perpetual feeling that things could be -- or should I say must be -- getting much better, why does it seem that for me at least that everything has come to a halt, being stagnant (if I couldn't say that it's getting worse and worsen), depressingly routine. It is hard to believe and hold on some optimistic point of view when every facts you have point on the other way.

I shouldn't be saying this -- or in this case, wrote about this -- but this need to write something on this wee hour is so great that I must write. Something. Before I will myself to sleep. Facing You again, in Your own domain, Your dwelling place. And there is nothing that prepare me to another encounter with You.

There is light and there is Light, but there is Dark also.

I just don't know what You represent. Not yet, anyway.