My Mind Is Consumed By My Fading Existence.
If i were to wither and die, surely the people around me will be affected. It is common knowledge that few would be scorned to the extent that their deaths be celebrated. But devastation of this magnitude is comparable to but a drop of water in the ocean. What is seen up close as tragedy is actually just the commonplace misery of this world.
This world strives on pragmatism, forgetting that the source of life is faith. I would rather sleep my life away and dream of a beautiful world. Yes, i am weak... i have no 'strength' to chase my dreams in this world. But what is this 'strength' that i lack? Is it not the riches, the connections, the results? For the only strength i have is of heart. But in this world that equation simply does not add up.
All my life, i've been waiting for that one impossibility to happen. It is as if this is the key to my life. All i need, is for someone to say "I Believe In You." and for me to trust that one person. But this is the cruel truth: few are the people who take time to see and believe in other people. Surely these words can come out of any one's mouth, but so weightless and empty are these words when misused. You can never believe in what you do not understand. Vice versa, trusting a person's words require a similar belief... that which i can no longer afford after all these wounds. Thus, an impossibility.
Why do i aim for greatness? Surely it is fact and has been constantly proven time and again that i am able to do good. Yet my heart continues to be burdened. Such a feat should be but the beginning of my magnificence. It is not my ego which speaks of this matter, surely you would know this for a fact if you knew me. Confidence has always been a... problem for me. But i digress. The depths of my soul cry out with pure desire, absolutely affirming that i am far from my destination.
Yet with my mortal eyes i see the impossibility of my dreams. And exhausting nights after nights mulling over a solution, even my once fiery heart has been extingushed. I see and curse my frail mortality, unable to accept such an existence. If i was but destined to be like dust on this earth, then i shall fulfill that role.
Death has always been the easy way out.
Question is, will I take it?
