(no subject)
There are choices we make in life. the choice to leave and get away is what i decide. i left everyone that i cared about, everything that i loved and hated. Each week goes by and i wonder if my life will ever fill. I wonder when in my life I will find something that will make me who i am. Here I am stranger in a crowd, I move with the masses. Faceless, thoughtless, against my undying will to give up. To turn back. Go back and dream. Dream of a life, set in a city, where i would do nothing, but be everything. Be some one who the spotlight just follows, narrowly.
I would rather not, i would rather not grow up. What do i have to for? What am I growing for? What has growing done for anyone? I, like Peter Pan, want to never grow up. My limbs grow mass, like moss on a tree, my face, speckled dirty by the hairs that blotchy grow.
Looking back, I am not sure where my life has gone. I curse my parents for sheltering me so much. Yet they have done all they could do to teach me well. They taught me to play it safe. I seek their approval for everything. Hoping that everything is okay. Not wanting to make them sad with the choices i make.
I am a cadapilar, waiting for someday to fly. To spread my wings of color. To feel the wind at my back. To have the scent of summer follow me, into the fall, and to fly south for the winter.
Spend the spring searching.
I'd like a sense of purpose, a direction in which to go. I feel like I am stuck in a place where i can not get out.
I would ask for some help, but I put myself in this place, and I should handle this. There is no turning back, I must go through this march of life, lifeless, lonely, and afraid.
I would rather not, i would rather not grow up. What do i have to for? What am I growing for? What has growing done for anyone? I, like Peter Pan, want to never grow up. My limbs grow mass, like moss on a tree, my face, speckled dirty by the hairs that blotchy grow.
Looking back, I am not sure where my life has gone. I curse my parents for sheltering me so much. Yet they have done all they could do to teach me well. They taught me to play it safe. I seek their approval for everything. Hoping that everything is okay. Not wanting to make them sad with the choices i make.
I am a cadapilar, waiting for someday to fly. To spread my wings of color. To feel the wind at my back. To have the scent of summer follow me, into the fall, and to fly south for the winter.
Spend the spring searching.
I'd like a sense of purpose, a direction in which to go. I feel like I am stuck in a place where i can not get out.
I would ask for some help, but I put myself in this place, and I should handle this. There is no turning back, I must go through this march of life, lifeless, lonely, and afraid.