Wisdom

Wisdom is dead, at the age of twenty-one. This scares me because I am reaching eighteen soon, which means I would be three years away from the hanging of wisdom. There is no inspiration, no knowledge, no substantial blotting-pad of light. As time ticks by I wonder about losing all that I have for so little. Dreams and hopes seem mocking and utterly unapproachable at this very moment. A four-year long struggle with something that makes everything insatiable and unattainable. Living has never made me feel so ashamed.