Where does one need to go to be happy?
The drama of vacation ( to de-stress from distress ) is going to be over soon as the hands of fun slip behind on return flight .
Or the last few hours of a rocking weekend ..
Afar I can hear shrieks of overjoyed kids at desolate traffic signals ..they just snatched a pack of cookies from preying dogs amidst debris .
And I thought it was all garbage?
The filth to one is a treasure to someone else . While I was worried of rain spoiling the extra tuft of my shelter , some chirping soul just weaved a nest on a scarecrow.  Stark and open , inviting the skies and connecting with fear.
I somehow am on a perpetual return from an imaginary vacation . Strangely though , there is sand in my boots that accompanies me while I go to beach for sea.
The dogs howl in backend while I hang my oar in a desert. 
If I were to write my epitaph in a minute , I would need to know how many lines to fill and an hour to think . And a few years to act in order to erase the blackness of my pages till now .
In my mind I would still imagine myself being at the start of race. The cheer of crowd would always suggest someone else had won again.
I was still busy whether to dash towards never ending targets or clean the tracks . Somewhere I shed my inhibitions and picked some garbage. It was still of use to someone who begged for it. Suddenly I felt like applauding myself . It did not matter where the crowd looked. I was my own real hero .
From above the sun winked at me and He smiled.