I have everything and nothing. A facade of a good life, but full of murky shadows waiting to pounce on every single chance i have of happiness.
But is it true happiness? is it a social dilemna? or its simply loneliness in disguise? A wild thought begetts doubt and doubt begetts ingratitude, thus, a lone-wolf is born.
I still feel whole and empty, full of life and yet without meaning. Neither a glass half full nor half empty, rather without water, But still makes a beautiful sound when one sticks and slides. So maybe there is hope after all, but the greyness still resides inside me.