That forgotten suitcase

Full open suitcase on tropical beach background

Remember that endless argument you had with yourself, the last time you woke up in an unknown place? The last time you travelled, to the hills maybe. Thinking what is the point of all this?

Deadlines, Suit & Tie, catching the last metro, booking that last minute Uber to get to work on time.  A little money in your pocket at the end of the month for those branded jeans, that dream-car on loan. On weekends, you realise you have forgotten who you are apart from work. What do you do for fun apart from hanging out with your college friends at that neighbourhood bar for some drinks?

Remember those dreams you had of becoming an author/
musician/ traveller/ writer? All those dreams buried deep in your heart. So deep that you have to search, beneath your skin, very hard to remember what it was.

You look bac

k fondly on those nights sitting alone, pen in hand, a drink on the table & you just playing tunes. Tunes from your heart.

That guitar lying in the corner; unused.

That diary with its pages calling out to you; blank.

That suitcase in a forgotten room ; empty.

Go back to the things which fill your heart & soul with happiness, passion, excitement about life. Go back and re-discover yourself. Again & again & again on those lonely nights, bored weekends. You might find happiness again, right there.