I fear looking into the mirror as what I see is just a weak and flawed person.

While I'm running hard, I've lost track of what I'm running from.

What is it that I fear so much that compels me, that drives me from sanity?

What am I holding on to?

What am I fighting for?

I've lost sight of all these things, my heart is no longer anywhere found.

Memories.

Are memories suppose to make you stronger, or weaker after all these years?

I've been thinking hard, perhaps too hard.

Unanswered questions that lingers around.

I simply cannot live like that.

I struggle. I fight.

But for what purpose?

I don't know... I don't know exactly.

The more I look into the heart, the more complex it is, the more murky it is.

The depths of the heart is so mysterious, it almost devoured me.

I fear that whatever happiness is present... is shortlived.

And I mourn whenever happiness dies.

Like a withered flower.

Beauty never did last long, as fleeting as the blink of an eye, it is gone.

Sometimes, memory works like a camera, we pick the moments to capture and imprint on film.

Except that film can be destroyed whereas you can never misplace memories.

I wonder why.

Why is there free will but yet we can't destroy a part of us for good.

We can only choose to selectively remember.

Ironic.

I don't know exactly what I am looking for.