a phase in life makes another, gone by, seem like a dream. i'v finally given up refusing to myself to grow up. iv suddenly realised iv grown old. old and useless with wasted dreams of what i could achieve. people who dreamt with me sadden me with their lives, to add to the cheer. these days inspiration comes in brief flashes. from meetings with people who have strived and achieved. who continue to, with the passion and energy that should have been mine. who tell me to fight for it. for a day after that ill feel young and bright. only to realise next morning that there are various types of players in this game and your strategy is played with and against all of theirs. so that after those numerous rebounds from their closed minds, your blow has dissipated all energy. you are reduced to a quitter, wanting to desert. surviving only thanks to your personal support sytem, the people you live on, like a parasite. your temper gets shorter, you can't tolerate good humor at times.
a good story saves me a little. gives me another world to concentrate upon. maybe someday i will write like that and save someone's day.
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