I lift my head which get exhausted because of all the thoughts inside it, and try to check my road. Neither the end of the road nor the road itself is visible. That time I understand that there’s a long way ahead of me. Interesting things happen sometimes. Some overtake me without saying hi, and some have a nice chat with me during our travel. But in the end, they leave me too. Sometimes I found those who overtake me without a greeting plotz on the road. When I ask “What happened to you?”, they say “Thorn of the road stinged into my foot”. But in the other side, some kiss and fondle the road, asphalt, ground, thorn, traveler, whatever they find there. I can’t understand it at first, but then I comprehend that those are the real travelers.
They don’t love the end of the road like us, they love the road itself. When I see all of these, I understand that there’s a very long way I must go beyond. Sometimes I think that I come to end, but another problem comes up. When I beat it, the one behind it revives. I feel like some kind of weird cycle captures my mind. Then I think, why the fact that we call as “road” must be a straight, something with an end? We’re wandering around in an infinite circle, which has no beginning and end, or front and back. Do you remember those who overtake me without saying a word? In fact, they don’t overtake me there. They’re actually behind me in a sense. Do you remember that old man who kisses all the things on his way? That old man who fondles the road, travelers, thorns, ground and stays behind me? Actually, he was in the lead. Because he knew that the way was endless, that’s why he loved the way itself. He wasn’t like those people who love the end of the way for their self interests. He just loved the way, the eternity, the game. That wise old man, has become the way itself. But we, we were stranded.