The Unknown

Story Writing

It’s rather strange gazing off in the distance not knowing whether the promise of the future remains.  It felt so defined, as though I could hold it close to my heart in the palm of my hand.  Now what remains is the unknown, the truly Great Unknown.  How vast this entity is that it allows the realm of possibilities to flounder in its lavish waters, uncertain, not yet palpable.  I cannot contain that which does not allow me to see clear images, vivid dreams.  I feel as though in a heartbeat my dreams choke me, turn against me into liquid tears which thrash the dry softness of my cheeks.  Why has it come to me this Great Unknown? Who am I waiting for?

I began this piece writing for my future, speaking to The One which I believe will find me great happiness.  This One is education, yet although it will allow me to keep my dreams burning alive, I know not whether in its depths it holds the keys to happiness and content, for materialism has often left his breed of creatures selfish and greedy for more, and education paves the way for my place in this greedy world.  If I believe I will find happiness, I then question with who, and if then I believe to know that answer too, the doubts arise: how can I know?

I have heard it many times over, the same ‘you just know’ as always, yet as the rain splatters on my window, my mind drifts to several years back.  I feel so much that I have left myself reserved, so inside myself I fear I will never finally pull out.  I remember watching as the masses would glance, thinking maybe they think what thoughts I think of myself about myself in themselves. Not all were good.  Today these sad pretenses of what I appear to be keep the emptiness alive.  I think I am afraid to allow myself to be, in fear somewhat that perhaps I am not the best there can be, and maybe even I am not enough.  Why do I strive for the perfect imperfection?  Why do I find a role I want to play?

I feel like sometimes I want to be the perfect girl that anyone can be, like the girl u speak of.  But then I question if I didn’t have certain aspects would you still like what you see, would u like what you have, would you want what you found?  I can’t be good enough for the answer to be yes for all of those.  I don’t know who I’m trying to be with, but he doesn’t want me in my mind, and I haven’t even met him.  I’m tired of trying in a non depressing way I’m tired of wanting you to see me when ‘you’ could be potentially anyone.  I’m afraid of being alone, I guess, even though my life has just begun.  

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