I wonder when will I get a clearer vision. I wonder if I can save my dreams from floating in limbo. I wonder how long will I put my dreams on hold.
I wonder what's waiting for me at the end.
I wonder how mysterious mystery is. I wonder if some mysteries are better left unsolved.
I wonder when to take the first step. Seriously, when is when?
I wonder where wanderlust will take me. I wonder if work will grant my little pleasures. I wonder where to get money for that.
I wonder if freedom will actually mold me into a better person or render me unproductive.
I've been wondering how long this mythical virtue called patience will last. If it won't, is there another mythical virtue in lieu of patience? Or, simply put, will it turn out to be another misguided idea since patience is, in reality, a minor form of despair?
I wonder if I can firmly grasp both my body and soul and, for once, order them to willfully work in harmony.
Why do I wonder all these things? I think it's another bout of wondering. Again.
The cycle of wondering simply never ends.