Alone

Luminous pathways may show us the perfect portray of a reality that is far from being ours.
In our reminiscent times, we ambition that which can not be simply bought. And in the meantime, we feel the coldness of the air impregnate the existence of those around us, making us aware of our surroundings and of how ordinary the human race can sometimes be.

The product of many years of sacrifice coming to nowhere in particular. The sweat and efforts of those wishing the fellow sibling to succeed end up in the same trash can where I left my entire integrity. And who is one to stand up for one's self in times like this, when morality has become one of the last things to worry about. Now, why do we live in such state? As surprising as it may sound, is the reality I have chosen to live.

Exemplary and talented piece of enchantment; my lifeless piece of enchantment.... what a lifeless piece of enchantment. I have come to that point where I have to take a break from the live I have involuntarily chosen to live, before is too late to ever go back. There are certain things that need to be regained before I go back to my old boring life. And why ever go back to a world that never appreciates the efforts of endless hours in agony and emotional torture to improve one's quality of life.
Looking back within the present eon which is about to end, there are nothing but personal failures, deadlines not met due to worthless self sacrifice, and at the end, what for? And there it goes, in the same trash can a world full of emotions and lovely dreams wishing to be half fulfilled.
I'm sick of doing this.... everything gets postponed until never again! There is no such thing as a second chance at this point. Surprisingly enough is the despair speaking on my behalf. What have I come to be?
What have I done to deserve such dizz? The only thing that can ever be asked from mankind is respect towards one another, but clearly I am stuck in a completely different world. WHY!?

I just want to be able to be the way I was, without questions asked, without minding what it may feel to be hurt, instead of wishing to hurt everyone and anyone. Sometimes I just want to give up, but that would be a rather coward act on my behalf.
Once again, the agony of handicapping every sentence that comes out from deep inside has led me to become the person I have feared the most. A person full of rage and envy. A person capable of destroying the most sacred human being for no particular reason. A person who has lost respect for one's self and would like to think is immune to pain. But, clearly, the more the wound hurts, the more rage is built up within, just waiting to explode. Now, tomorrow, eventually, whenever time is to come.
I just want to get away... fly away... unplug my mind from this nightmare paradise that I have created for my sake.
And now, alone in the darkness of my own insides, I look around and I see empty shells, emptiness overall. I see confusion and despair, not only on my side, but in everyone's eyes. People fear to live one more day, without expecting to end their existence.
Anxiety takes over the mind of the weak, juxtaposing thoughts with the marvelous eerie ideals of the dark side
In the meantime, alone in the darkness of my own shadow, I see my lifeless piece on enchantment walking without any particular direction, expecting to be guided by the first irradiating vague idea of my ideal idea about life.