At times I forget the deep-rooted feeling that I am waiting for something. Every once in a while I catch myself needing to be reminded. When I was younger the feeling was a lot more intense, but at the time I was also feeling very lonely.
I used to think that it was love I was waiting for – and while it is true that I was waiting for love to find me, it was not the only thing I waited for. I am still waiting for that moment when an epiphany finally hits me. Perhaps it is the kind of thing we all wait for? The kind of thing we won’t know until it arrives?
I suppose asking for insight into how to force life to make sense is futile, no? Then again, of what use is sense to a mind that wants to break free of its confines?