The Final Dream...

In those moments of helplessness,
hopelessness and loneliness,
there is a single thought
that sustains...

A dream...

And the dream
to make that dream a reality.

Through the continuous maze
of years of preparations,
sometimes the fruits
get the better of us.

That desperate urge
to put our knowledge to test
even in an uncaring world
is enough
to make us forget of the end dream.

The finale...

The ultimate.

In the void of tiredness,
it is necessary
to keep that hunger alive.

The hunger
to be ever learning,
to be ever striving,
to do what
purifies the soul
and not just fills pockets.

The hunger to be
what we are meant to be.

The driving force,
the motive power of our lives.

That one thought
that makes life worthwhile.

The end game...

It's difficult
not impossible
when the picture
is burned so vividly
in our hearts,

To reach where we belong,
to shoot that one goal
that'll win us the match,
to look at us,
and to be able to tell ourselves -

There's still farther to go,
there's still life to live,
there's still a hunger to satiate...

There's still
the final dream to live!

Where is me...

A common feature in a man's life
is the herd of "friends"
that are often found flanking him
wherever he goes,
in presence or in mind. 

Just as you never see a cow without a cattle
you never see a man
without the usual rattle.

Where are the spaces,
the empty playgrounds
where you could just sit on the swing
unashamedly staring nowhere?

Where are those lone times
where you could jut cry your eyes out
without a bother of audience?

Where are those empty moments
where you could hear your heart
not the gossips of the latest love couple?

I am tired.
Tired of the everlasting chatter
of the things that don't matter
by the people that don't matter.

I am urging to fly
to be given the space to
spread my wings.

Those empty grounds to run
free as an eagle,
exhilarated as a horse,
majestic as a lion...

Where is the childhood
where friends meant playmates
not my-mind-your-mind soulmates.

Where am I
in this big, wide jungle
of 'civilized' inmates?

Who am I?

Am I the voice in my head
or the voice that is
struggling to come out of my head?

Am I the reason?
Or is the reason me?

Am I the girl I think I am?
Is the voice me?
Or does it belong
to the horde of those around me?

Who am I?
And most importantly,
Where am I...