Life is inevitable. One way or the other, for good or for not-so-good, it relentlessly proceeds; and Time is a strange phenomenon: it may either fly away or crawl, but it never stops. Not until the end.
My journey has lasted twenty-four years, and now that I think of it, that’s quite a large part of the whole. Twenty-four years, spent, not knowing where I am headed. At various times in this journey, I have become vaguely aware of the value of various concepts. For example, it took me twenty-one years before I realized that people are important. And it’s only been a couple years since I started understanding the value of dreams. Religion and spirituality, idealism and practicality, passion and greed, love – and disappointment… I’ve known them all. I’ve won and I’ve lost, I’ve failed and I’ve succeeded. And yet, I know that I’ve done none of these things. I know that if I open my eyes to look, I shall find the canvas of my life still vacant, still new. And I know that I must fill it.
And so, the journey begins again. Once again I lift my head and I look forward. More than anything else in Life, I seek meaning. I’m not a solitary pilgrim, and I’m not a preposterous guru. I’m simply a young man, strong and hopeful, in search of a dream, and hoping that you and I can walk together awhile – till our roads diverge.