SS # 50: Dream Journey

My life has been a journey. All my life, I have fought for what has been right. What is right? What I believ in. I have moved and thrown away old useless objects, which I now realise to be precious objects of times of happiness, times of pureness, times of childhood. I have grown older and maybe wiser, maybe stupider. I have cried at funeral; my grandmother's, grandfathers' and cousin's. I have trudged along an long path, with rocks and stones. I have tripped on branches and have heard the chirping of birds at dawn, and the stillness in the night. Snow has frozen my toes, but still I limp on. It would have been easy to escape, to just pick up that stick and drive it through my heart, like so many others had. Others. There were others, but I had never seen them. Skeletons, yes, of people God had punished and unleashed his wrath upon, of people who gave up on life and God. But still I trudged on. No turning back, only wishing to. No benches. No place to rest and say, "Yes. I can finally let my heart sleep!" Only roads. Winding, crossing, torturing roads. Where have my shoes gone? Worn away, like everything else. But was it real? Is anything real? Or just a dream? A dream of dancing slippers and white frocks lacing the sky. Or maybe a dream of long, infinite roads, leading to the heavens. And all that is left of my other life is that dream.