Time, sometimes we waste it, sometimes we curse because there is too much of it and we dont know what to do with it. And sometimes, you know time is running out and with that time, perhaps a dream. Your fulfillment, your happiness. And you know that no matter how hard you run, scream or pay, it will be gone.
Promises. What are they but words? Some given in jest, some that swear they are earnest, some that uplift you, some that make you dream, hope, smile, believe. And then one fine day you realise those are but words. Nothing happens to those who break promises except leaving behind those who are broken by an unkept promise.
Believe. Why do we believe in things, anything, people, any person? Are we fools? Don't we have any sense of preservation?
Change. It comes, you might not want it, but it comes. It's worse when the change comes over people... And you watch helplessly. You ask for reassurances but you know change has already claimed them. Or perhaps something else has.
Luck. You will always run out of it when you most need it. And with luck goes time, promises made and just so much more.
And then you wonder: Will I be able to stand straight again? Or will this finally break me? Perhaps it will...
PS: Self-shot pic, best way to deal with boredom, loneliness and dejection is to click yourself in the thick of it.