Under the heat of the sun, it dawned on me. What am I really looking for? Blankly, I stared into signs with hollow eyes. What has slipped away? Is it beauty? Aphrodite. Or wealth? I never cared for it. I remember when I said once I never will care. I have betrayed myself. Another year approaches its end, and here I am, once again, wondering what I’ll do with this golden time. There has to be a way out from the cages of sanity, there must be a light at the end of this tunnel. I have the story, the words of a survivor, but no matter how much I burst, it feels it’ll never be enough. My pain. My fire. Burning away, I welcome the warmth, for the winter is harsh, and cold, and what terrifies me most is the loneliness. It is a time when I turn on myself, fighting against some dark spectre, and I feel like I’m being torn away by some wild, ravaging beast. Summertime is just as terrifying as the silence of winter. Yet, I long for it more than anything. But the moment away from relief, is the hardest, it’s when I want to give up the most. If I lose this, I’ll have nothing. But is letting go of the thrill worth it, in a blind hope that I will find another one? Because that’s what it is, hope. In the future, in the fulfilment of dreams and desires. Of blindly walking into the fire, trusting that I will emerge braver, stronger and wilder than ever.