Coming back i now remember why i never loved it here-why i was always moody and quiet anytime i was around and the only way i could remind myself that life is beautiful was by forgetting i was here.The cesspool of mediocrity was choking me. The sinking sands of “lets manage with this” were gaining a strong grip on my zesty soul. Anytime i dream i limited myself. A dream is only potent as long as you stay asleep.
i have too much to offer to limit myself to sleep when the whole world is right before me. I refuse to come down to some level when i broke my back getting to the top of the hill. i refuse to become a grain in a heap, when i can be the wind and let everyone obey my command. I refuse to be ordinary. Life is too beautiful not to standout.