Am I living a dream that isn't mine?
I feel like I'm not where I'm supposed to be, not surrounded by people
who should be around me, not in the path I should be walking through.
But that's life, I guess. All you can do is hope and dream. And even
though you try hard to be who you want to be, you'd be a lucky one in
between millions, if you ever get there. If you don't, well you just
gotta accept it. No matter how bitter it feels. I have not been myself
lately, I'm like a machine, doing orders and moving under someone's
control. Not that I'm saying that I hate my life, but to be frank, I
wish it could be better. I secretly cry myself to bed sometimes. This
place, this life, this person. Where, what, who?
Yet there's a
passion in my heart, but my voice can't come out. There's a will in my
guts, but my muscles can't work.
But I ask myself again, is this
just a thing grown ups go through? The breakdowns, the heartbreaks, the
unfulfilled expectations?
I've became best friends with the
airplanes, the clouds, and the wind. But they can't take me where I want
to be.
