State of things

I live with the expectation and inner desire that things I come to love and shape my life in a certain way, would remain the same, no matter how long would be the amount of time between each visitation. 

But they change.

Perhaps a little bit at the time, sometimes unperceivable.

And not necessarily for the better. 

A sort of entropy develops as time goes by. 

I sense it, and a subdued despair builds up. 

Then, a silent scream. 

But I learn to live with them as parts of life itself. 

Things that don't change, or those forming a glowy patina that it's rather an upgrade, are rare, but I am focused and ready to welcome them anytime, as one that looks for a light in darkness. 

Unchanging-ness becomes a purpose...

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