Monday, February 1, 2016


I think these are the stories we tell ourselves. We tell ourselves that we can be the student that makes our teachers proud, the child that makes our parents proud, the peer that brings good times to our friends. We can be all of these things: the perfect child, student, friend, person.

But that story plays on our ego. If we chase these fairytales all the way to the end, there will be nothing waiting for us there.

And this is important, because we are the stories we tell ourselves. We make our futures from these little myths that sit in the corners of our everyday.

So this is the story I want to tell myself.

* * *


There are some things we do that we can't take back. But sometimes - and here I have to strain my ears hard to hear who is really talking - is it loneliness? or is it fear - of the future? of death? of the unknown? What is it?

Is it the truth?

Sometimes I wonder.

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