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My body lies frozen within the compounds of these desert wastelands. I should have been so much more than I am now. I should have already embarked on the journey across the world and take steps towards the dreams I cling to - even still - even after everything. I keep trying to find a loophole. A way I could climb through the rubble of the present, push away the encumbrance of current burdens, and set ablaze the life I can no longer sustain. I cannot phantom being in this state much longer, and as I feel my soul and heart erupting, I am struck with paralysing fear. What if this time there is no chance to breakaway? What if I never get to prove you wrong, and stay the person who didn't deserve to be in your life, who wasn't good enough for you to stay? What if she looks down upon me and is disappointed, sighs with regret and lets the reins of her guardianship crumble beneath the magnitude of my failure? What if all of this is completely in vain, falling on deaf ears and cynical eyes, and what if the boy who wants the world, gets nothing - nothing at all?
I can't even begin to explain how exhausted I am. No one ever tells you that chasing your dreams means running until you're out of breath, but pushing on anyway. I can feel the people around me losing patience, finding ways to break the chains which bind our fragile connections, and discard me as detrimentally as their predecessors. I keep writing the same words because I keep living the same stories. Nothing has changed, at least not in ways that would matter. You can go back through the years and read how utterly unconvincing my tale of transformation truly is. There is no growth or change or satisfaction - there are only fantasises imagined and repeated. I wanted things to be different, at least for the sake of all of you. I wanted to come here and share my story of triumph, one of complete dominance over myself. Yet the person before you is far from that reality, yet so close at the same time. Always in limbo, always stuck together, torn apart.
