We are not fair-faced queens, okay, not even plain-faced ones, and there are not that many kings left on this earth. But still, it is the best of times, it is the worst of times.
We are heading everywhere, we are heading no where. There are moments with so much joy that we shed tears, there are moments with so much sorrow that we couldn’t.
Fifty years from now, when I sit quietly on my lovely armchair with grey hair, would I remember the dreams and hopes and mountains, all those things that I would kill to have? Or would I just giggle to the memory of riding on the back of a motorcycle with a cute stranger in Athens, full speed towards the hill behind Acropolis? Would I remember the persons I teared my heart for, or the random guys that I shared my bed with.
Not knowing leads to anxious sleepless nights, but knowing is the depression. I guess that is the beauty and cruelty of life.