A road best left behind...

He wished he liked people more, but somehow he could never get on with them. He never knew what to say. If life was a party, he wasn't even in the kitchen. Sometimes he envied the people who made it seem like they were actually enjoying themselves. Could they possibly even be honest? And if so, could he somehow learn to do the same? There might be a spark of hope left for him, although he knew the limits of his imagination.

I have too many hopes in what's to come, I know. I hope to be led safely to the shore. I hope life will be nice to me, just nice and nothing more. I hope to vanquish this tornado of self doubt and insecurity. I don't ask for the sun to be always shining. I don't ask for the day to be much longer. I don't ask for the guiding stars to be brighter. I don't ask for more flowers or more powers. I don't ask for the sky to be clear from clouds, or for a lack of rain and frustration. All I ask for is some peace of mind. So indeed, I have too many hopes, it would seem. My wishes are infinite, so I wonder, what will the universe do? Don't disappoint me, I suppose, for it already knows.