(no subject)
Y'know when you read a really good book, and you get really into it- and as you keep turning the pages, the story either gets better or worse- you periodically guage your progress by how many pages you've read and how many more you have to go- you're exited because you want to know what's going to happen indefintiely, and before you know it, it's finished?
Kinda like life in a way- different chapters, some are good, some are bad, some are just- but with life, you can't "re-read" it- you can't go back and re-live Chapter 12, as wonderful as it was, and Chapter 14 was terrble, and you're thankful because you can't go back. It's sad though, either way- good or bad- and even indifferent, when one of those chapters end. And when you go into the next one, your mind still dwells a bit on what happened last- eventually you become distracted and engaged in what's going on in the now. But what happened still lingers and sometimes eats at you.
I hate that anticipation, sometimes, of not knowing when this one is going to end- and a new one is going to begin. But I guess you can't live in Chapter 22 forever.
Kinda like life in a way- different chapters, some are good, some are bad, some are just- but with life, you can't "re-read" it- you can't go back and re-live Chapter 12, as wonderful as it was, and Chapter 14 was terrble, and you're thankful because you can't go back. It's sad though, either way- good or bad- and even indifferent, when one of those chapters end. And when you go into the next one, your mind still dwells a bit on what happened last- eventually you become distracted and engaged in what's going on in the now. But what happened still lingers and sometimes eats at you.
I hate that anticipation, sometimes, of not knowing when this one is going to end- and a new one is going to begin. But I guess you can't live in Chapter 22 forever.