awash on a small island

life sometimes reaches those small islands. from which all you want to do is cast away.
they are like stopping points. ones from which no land is seen, but ones from which you can be sure that you will get off.

its just that sometimes, being cast away too long gets to you. there is the need to be on the mainland. amongst. so to speak.
mans cultural inclination forces him to reject isolation.
but till then, from the high peak of the island, the eye looks for the faintest flag.

difficulties in life are sometimes not wordable. ones which can only be felt. because they are not a single moment or a paragraph of distress. rather, they are emotions which span years. those which have had no beginnings and no ends. how is it possible to talk about them. they are at best, flitting images in the mind. of sorrow and happiness. together. creating more. they are those things which make you sigh, and just keep your eyes open and blankly stare into the mind. because there is no future, and the past kills you sometimes.