I used to be young and full of dreams once, 32 didnt feel as old, nor does 35, im about to be 36, and it feels older than all the rest of them.
I have nothing in life, nothing to show for it, just lost love and broken hearts. Lost time and fading memories. I wish i could turn back in time and make brighter decisions, smarter actions, to lead me down a different path. Aint it funny tho, how you cant take time back, but you continue to screw some more of it. I lead a very lonely life, tucked away in a flat, which i dont leave very much, i had such big dreams and big hopes and a huge appetite for life. Now i have a hunger for quiet and peace and love. I want someone to love me for me, to see me, to hold me and cuddle me, and have non sense conversations with me, and watch an endless amount of shitty movies that make me ball my eyes out. But im 36, and its haunting me because i dont go out, i have a permanent life illness thats marked me for life, changed how i look, how l feel, and regardless how much i push and want to change it, i cant do a single damn thing about it. I want my own little family and maybe to leave someone behind that will remember me, someone who’s going to change this world and their life in ways i couldnt. I left home when i was 17, then again when i was 24, and i forgot the big dreamer somewhere along the way. I cant be her anymore and i dont know who me is now. Maybe i am a d**k, lifeless with no dreams, maybe this is my dream, peace and quiet and stability. Writing has always been my way of expressing, every time i wrote i left a piece of regret in there, a map to a memory, but i read back now and i cant find or see the memory anymore. I can feel memories sometimes, they make me laugh, and feel things long buried, maybe one day my turn to be happy will come…
