I see the endless lines of words arranged accordingly. These memories shaded by our history. Time is a maze of possibility. Waking from these dreams that fill my waking hours with doubt. Is it possible to be more than a dream?

I see these hours move swiftly through my hands. It’s not about doing more, life is about being yourself as best as you can despite the many obstacles of life.

I hear the words aloud. A cloud of doubt hovers nearby. These days wasted on wondering if things could have been better if things were different.

Categories: writing

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