Moments of confession

I'm desperate for a holiday. Not because I want to see something new, but rather to keep myself busy and avoid certain things in life. Maybe it's a sin to pretend to be busy, it is. How far can I runaway from my feelings and intentions? Am I hiding here or really up to something? I don't know. What is real and what is temporal? I'm confused. Somehow, part of me chose to stay in the past and refused to move on. Yet part of me eagerly marching forward to rewrite new stories in life. Perhaps there will be a point of time that I will be torn up by this tension. Or I will be so stretchable and find a balance in between (the past and the future).

Just like Cobb in the movie 'Inception' where part of him stuck in his dream and couldn't get over it. Perhaps part of me stuck in my memory. Perhaps I should go inside my memory, or dream, and say bye to the important person there, if I can ever make it happen. Because he is not real, he is just part of my memory.