Support

Not only of certainties life is made of.
I seriously don't know what's coming next in these last days of freedom. I don't know what will be the outcome of this crazed quest I've imposed to myself. I can only say that it's going to be fun trying, who knows what may happen in the way.
And I also know I have the support of these people. I know it's boring already but I still don't know why you stand by my side. But I hope someday I'll be able to reward you all somehow. I suck at thanking people or at complimenting them, guess I have to work on that.
All these clocks ticking. I like the sound they make. It's like time is moving, things are moving. Not like running out of time but having things changing into something more.
I am the last one to sleep, again. But that's not bad I guess. When the world closes it's eye I can really be myself. I can walk around without scaring them. I can think without being bothered.
I find it funny to speak without giving names, at least most of the time. And speaking about things in a way they aren't but some, very few, can actually relate fantasy to reality. And it's inside turmoil I find calmness. Among these few brave soldiers that still fight a battle I had many times in the past declared it was lost, I see these dark eyes of a new passer-by. I don't know whether these eyes will be there as war rages through the days, or if it will soon walk away looking for it's own reason. But I'm glad they once got here. They have a different type of darkness, one of the kindest I've ever witnessed. They look so sincere, as if dreams lived at the other side of those shiny dark windows, and weren't afraid of telling their location.
And I walk again, backed up by my loyal soldiers and a curious passer-by.
And I hope one day I can be forgiven.