The journey is the beginning. A trip I hoped would open the truth and connect my past with the future. I yearned to walk to an optimistic place without dark surroundings and to the edge of what I hoped would be peaceful.

I wanted to find a world I've never known with new people I've never met, with them, who are the shadows looming in the mind. With these outcomes, I wish I could fill the days and nights of my tomorrows.

There is no limit to what the mind expects. Will it depress me more and sink me into the bottomless fantasy ocean, desecrating sacred thoughts and violating the goodness I protect so much?

 

When I arrived at a dark, strange place situated on a bleak, high mountain somewhere I did not comprehend, I wasn't sure if I had to live there. Did I arrive back at my past, many, many miles away? I didn't find any warmth in there, yet with a fresh mind and hopes occupied by dreams and unuttered fears, I waited patiently for the outcome.

 

Days and nights pressed on as though tomorrow was never coming again. The howling winds left within me an echo of apprehensiveness. I thought I heard it whistling to me, warning me to run away from there. I wasn't going to give up now. I waited so much to find the truth, and here I am suffering, but I knew that in the end, I would be satisfied. The light of dawn appeared early; it brought no comfort from the tension inhibiting me.

All that I had discovered was strange and lonely, and hopes were resting on omens ready to pounce backwards. I thought of returning to the present many times. Still, I couldn't tell if the answers I was expecting might have been there waiting in that vast darkness that began to subdue my heart, surrounded by many ghosts roaming in there and mingling with the fears of the present life.

 

The journey was long and tiring. And though I somehow settled, I began to subside into weirdness.

Aroused by hopes and enclosed by fear, I kept searching as my insignificant curiosity continued. But to where? Since I started this journey, I have become part of an unfamiliar environment, which touched my innermost strangeness.

I couldn't understand it at all, yet it was there, and I couldn't get rid of it. My mind still leaned toward the past life I was residing in, yet somehow,  I was frightened of what I would discover because I was scared of what was in there and what would happen to my future.

 

The mists swirling about my thoughts often obscured me. They crept slowly into my stomach and made me shiver. The haze didn't go away but spread throughout my body. I knew that the news I was waiting for didn't come by the day, but through the anguish and agony of waiting.

 

Suddenly, through that journey, I felt ill; it was the illness of strangeness, weirdness and bizarreness which left me without strength. It came abruptly, and when it passed, it went away very slowly. I had to comprehend that I must go back to the present if I had to survive, even if I would never find out what truly happened, except for the few truths I already knew.