Dreams. While they may be goals for others, an extension of their realities, mine are fantasies, pure fiction. They are wonderful things that run parallel to my life, a refuge. They are untainted, pure, sacred, but sometimes I feel as if their sanctity is threatened. As if I don't know if they are good anymore, as if I don't know what I want. Who I want to be.

  I am scared. Terrified, petrified, fearful. I am a wimp, I am afraid of the future, afraid of the dark what lurks in the dark;

               because what lurks in the shadows are ghost, of mistakes, mine, everyone's.

  i am muddled,

I have been too quiet. I don't talk nowadays, I am not a conversationalist. Not someone who lies for small things, not one to lie and say nice things so people will like me. I am blunt, blunt like the discarded saw. But people only like hearing things they want to hear, they don't want to hear things like:"Do you think sometimes about  they like nice things, so all the not nice things have to stay in my head. Accumulate. The sediments on a river, deposited over time, they lead to a flood that bursts, overflows. And when that happens, the river is no longer a friend. It is a megalomaniac, part of the water that is not content with occupying two-thirds of the water. It challenges technology, its anger has no limits. It is selfish and unfeeling, it does not recognize guilt, hence murder is easy. It just wants more, more, more, it thinks only of itself.

 Have you ever wished to be someone else? They tell me I'm lucky.    sometimes I agree. I think I wouldn't mind going through hardship, obstacles, because I am sure that they would mold me into something better, something special. But then again I suppose that makes me ungrateful. It is an excuse, and the worst one I may have thought of. It is my fault for being who I am today.


  I want to know what real love feels like, even while I question its existence. I want to know what its like, to call a male The One, to know, out of the billions in the world that he is your soulmate. I want to lay with him on a bed of grass under the dark velvety sky, and have the stars scattered across it like diamonds witness our night. I want him to challenge me, intellectually, yet teach me. I want to be able to tell him everything, and cry in his arms when something is wrong, and cry with him when he needs me.