Thorns of Life

Everything in life runs to an end. The flower that blooms will eventually bloom. Lying carelessly in the rays of the sun, with its delightful feeling of warmth and delight on our skin, a merciless twilight appears. The taste of first love, excitement, following and desire will replace distrust after a painful heartbreak. Pain after finishing the beloved book, series, which we will not experience the same "absorbing" again in one night. Talking to people who will forget about our existence in a year or two. Going to a school that we do not know if we will graduate or find a job after it. Looking in the mirror every day with another huge amount of disappointment and the question of what am I even doing in this monstrous world. Moments of opening a good wine that will end anyway. Singing of young birds in spring that will be silenced with the onset of autumn. The laughter of unsuspecting carefree children who will one day fall into the cruel arms of adulthood. Dancing to your favorite song that we'll finally get bored. The taste of ice cream in the hellish days of summer, which will also end in the end, and we will be forced to run for it to the nearest store in desperation. Satisfying thirst, despite its reappearance. A mother who feeds her beloved child knowing that one day it will leave her. The desire and desire of two lovers full of intense colors, fading over the years. Old photos and letters of people who are no longer with us. The death of people who were wonderful and did not deserve a premature end. Friends who promise to be, and still leave. The eternal rat race and endless longing. Inability to express your opinion without being brutally, negatively judged. Realizing that we don't know the people we hang out with. Constantly looking at my phone, waiting for any message, but nothing comes up. Saying that we don't get our hopes up, even though we still do them. The desire to reach for a beautifully blooming rose with the awareness that it lures us with its thorns. Fear of expressing one's opinion, fear of being yourself, fear of life and waiting for its merciless end. Walk slowly through life because we are afraid to run. Fear of straying from the path that the rest of society is taking for fear of failure. The handcuffs of thorns we had grown up in. This is what life is.