Somewhere between running after something for so long, that you feel the need to run away from the chase, and actually beginning to run away, you realize that things are only getting worse.
The only thing you can think of is how far you've got. And the moment you turn back to measure the distance you've crossed, that distance vanishes and you have to start the run all over again.
Every thought, every street, every phrase reminds you of the very thing you're escaping. Much, though you may be trying to run from its grasp, the more you concentrate on running away, the more easily you make for it to catch up with you.
You reach where ever you were planning on running off to. You reach, but you know you haven't arrived. Arrive, you will, when you've truly run away. The people have followed you all the way, as if it knows that you are injured.
And now they are sitting on your shoulders, weighing you down heavily.
You jerk your shoulders; jerk your entire body, trying to rid yourself of this unwanted presence.
Friends around you mistake you to be dancing, to be happy.
Little do they see the blue feelings camouflaged by your white t-shirt.
After all the running you have done, you almost reached the destiny, at that point the feeling is like going back and rejoicing the moments you have spent with few memorable people whom you have met along in your adventurous journey.
The feeling is sinking and you slowly fall into a deep slumber sleep. Still the moments will not die out, as the moments have been captured in the photographs, as people say 'Photographs brings back the best of the memories' and people will cherish it forever.
Now you all must be remembering the moments you have spent with your friends, a part of them would think and smile. Second half of em has moved on and the rest left would go write to their friends.
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