Sometimes you have to take everything that's good, everything you remember, everything that made you who you are, and throw it away and walk away from it.
The fantasy scenes in movies will never translate into this world, this plane of reality, and nothing will ever be exactly the way you wanted it. We can never strive for perfection and peace, because it just does not virtually exist.
At what length must one go to achieve this level of absolute satisfaction, this inner peace, this happiness? How many sacrifices does it take? At what cost?
Are we all stuck in this daily routine of perpetual mundaneness? Do some just give up and fall in line? Is there someone else out there like me who is searching for the edge of this boundary, hoping that someday, they will find their way out?
Is this truly a depression, or a glimpse into reality?
I'm so tired of putting this fake happy face on and pretending that I am at peace with myself and the rest of the world. I've been trying so hard to make myself happy, to discover what my needs are, to find my true friends, to find what makes me happy.
I don't know anymore.
I want out of here.
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