I woke up at 4 in the morning the day when 23rd year of my life began few days ago, went for a walk, relishing the freedom of mind which I sometimes lose track of. I didn’t feel anything: no attachment, no detachment, no nothing. I just thought for a while about the idea of counting our life’s days that have passed by using something called ‘years’.

The fact that ‘life’ has the ability to turn anything in any direction had been surrounding my mind, making it clear and foggy at the same time, making me grateful and regretful at the same time.

The morning light didn’t make me rush through anything: In that moment, I was me, Me was I and I was time, time was me.

All these memories, moments, emotions, plannings, future, past, present, books, creations, people: everything is me. I no longer felt the need to sleep more, no longer felt the need to rush anywhere, the walk is always enough.

There is always more than enough creation in everything, enough to remind anyone the origin of creation.

Time becomes the source and end of infinity then.

Is it not enough?