The long season, the long years..

All those years, what have I been doing? At first it is full of hesitation. But soon it finds its way into the routine and the ritual that spells obsession of a kind. Do I say obsession? All doors are found locked and I am locked in. Is there a way out? Life is an obsession of one thing and then another. They called it stages of life. Others called it maturity. A philosopher described it as a process of consciousness. What do you called it? Obsession has neither name nor a title. Only history would give a better picture of that routine and that ritual. Early morning I am already with my routine and my ritual. I just let go what is locked inside. How would I described it? Obsession? Or it is part of the long season that sees me reaping the reward?