Grown ups amuse me sometimes,
with all that talk about maturity, sensibility.
I think it's all bull shit.
We are only human, and we are all the same.
It's been quite a while since I last felt this way,
it's no stranger, but more than familiar.
It's like a repetition, a reminder.
It is a norm, to always do things we like,
things we enjoy,
hence giving us the additional motivation, the additional drive.
With passion, it's a step closer to excellence.
But when passion gets twisted with something else,
it takes you one step further.
I know I'm being semi childish, semi spiteful,
but with unappreciation and the feeling of being disposable,
why would you act on something?
What's worse, you dread it.
You FUCKING dread it.
If we're so dispensable, go ahead and act on what was said.
Maybe it doesn't matter as much as it did initially,
maybe it is not something I strived for initially,
maybe along the way, I lost sight of the vision I wanted to head towards.
She told me, "the road is tough, but don't give up!"
It is not an unlit cave where we are treading dangerous paths, nor where the end is blinded.
It is merely a treacherous route, two routes to take til you reach the end.
And almost always, it is these situations that leave us rooted, afraid to take the next step.
This is where, I lose focus of what I want.
Where I stumble and fall, yet have to pick myself up.
I do not have 500% to give every week.
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When I heard loud knocks on my door this morning,
I knew nothing good would come out from the rest of the day.
And I'm sick for real,
fucking believe it or not.
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