I started looking for something to write and I had none. I didn't have time, I thought. I wasn't inspired, with all beautiful words slowly written off, carrying any mindset I have about my surroundings no longer exist. Right it wasn't about having time or not. When comfortability sets in everything just fades away, even the major ones. That's probably the consequence of complacency, and what's worse, that's not all. I should be given a chance to start thinking already, before it's too late. - someone's not young anymore. Tick tock tick tock, and time waits no one. It wouldn't matter until it happens.