Lines, Lines...and some more lines.

So many lines I have crossed in the past few years.

Some with cart wheels, loud yippies and hurrays, weirdly stalked with post yippy-hurray sadness, yet there was a strong sense of accomplishment.

Some with heart break and tears.

Lines which divided love from indifference, life from death, post-teenage from adulthood.

The lines I couldn't wait to cross and lines I didn't even know existed until they did.

I have noticed there's this gravitational pull in those line-jumping moments. Your mind keeps going back to them. You keep reliving those memories. Nostalgia, as they call it. Shackles and chains is what comes to my mind.

The way I see it if its memories of loss, of pain or of sadness, then you keep getting hurt, again and again; the same disappointment, or at least some fraction of it haunts your days and your nights, leaving scars which grow deeper and deeper...

If its the memories of good times then you keep comparing the present with the past. Lust for that same thrill, that same high might drive you crazy but it never gets you anywhere good... Again you find yourself, knocking on that big-bad door of disappointment.

These lines.

I know if I have to cross even a few more, it wouldn't be long before I cross that one.

The one which divides sanity from insanity.