Dark Tunnel and Rose-scattered Paths

It is that kind of poetry again. Of me trying to walk in the dark, hands held out searching for something to grasp on.

Time keeps moving, uncaring of how the neurons in my brain run frantic imagining the comfort that I've paid through sweat and sleepless nights, is slipping away through my fingers.

Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.

Everything comes with a cost. Each meal priced below twenty ringgit; escapades that demand hundreds; a trip or access to community through paid means of travel; and a dignified appearance for others to see.

I am closer to another decade, thus I questioned myself, Is this a sign for a new beginning? Dare I step outside this circle of comfort, of safety, that has been taught to me? Through a system that demands a price for your existence? Dare I believe there's a world outside exchange of labour and pursuit of valued papers?

Or perhaps a sign closer to the void? For all our time here is counted. For the ability to choose our end is the ultimate form of resistance. Not to change the system, no, but to take control of our own fate. But that seems to me, as it always has been, akin in believing that once you enter a dark tunnel, there is no light at the other end.

So it is a new beginning, then. Another venture into the uncharted territory. Another journey of meeting crossroads and walking through thorn-filled, rose-scattered paths. Second guesses and regrets, impromptu actions and overthinking episodes, will be the norm. These are pieces of the puzzle that I have to solve.

And the one who will have my back, is myself. As always.