Where am I going? Where do I come from? A complete circle. What goes up, must come down. Such is life and everything in it, all must come to an end, at perhaps where it all started.
Each day, I leave my home before sunrise, only to reach home after sunset - all darkness. The day at work may be a good or bad one, still, it has to end with the lonely journey home. So the next day follows. And the next. In repetition, the torment of life as familiarity bleeds boredom - the first sign of contempt.
So my eyes are closing now, before opening again tomorrow, as sleep descends.
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