People wait and wait, a stream of endless waiting, endless longing, endless paths of waiting. It's funny isn't it how when it's Monday people wait for Friday. They keep telling themselves repetitively to hang in there, to keep fighting, keep struggling to keep afloat in the water until Friday comes. Friday comes at last but the freedom and happiness only lasts for two days and then the cycle begins all over again. So what is the point of waiting for a certain day, a certain season, a certain emotion in life.
People I feel are simplistic like that. They are easily satisfied with even if it's only a few days of happiness. They want to always grab onto the now, the present and make as many happy memories as possible before it passes by and then the cycle of waiting begins again.
We are always waiting, waiting for the impossible in love, waiting for the impossible to happen, waiting for days off, for summer to arrive. Life is a journey of endless waiting itself, won't you agree? Waiting for the right person, right friends, right season, and then we grasp onto the short amount of time we have with it and then wait for it to come around again.