Within Grasp

Another year has passed, and not a single word (if ever there was any) can sum up my thoughts this very instance. A mix of moods filled the chest of cobwebbed dreams, while the mirror showed no sympathy to the aged lines on veined skins trying to make meanings of the days and nights spend doing nothing. I recalled many moments, penning them down with invisible inks. One by one, they left the room the minute I reached that definitive memory in time - that one sole event too fragile for a flashback scene. The one that disposed vindication for whys and hows. I stood agog, again, and somewhat aghasted by the fact that the one thing which makes me feel terrible is the same reason as to why I am still right here - holding on to the pasts. But today, as the clouds permutate in motion, so must I.

Happiness is still within grasp. Thanks all for the Birthday wishes.