Gam Zeh Yaavor.

Can I tell you a story while we dance as the sun starts to bleed?

I always imagined that life would be beautiful. People never grow old and people never die. People are honest and people never lie. People always laugh and never cry. People make love and never hate. People treat other people with respect and tolerance and people never ignore and forget.

People love other people, always.

Just one of the many fallacies of my thoughts. I suppose I lived in Utopia in my past life, the only downside to that being that I died. Everything was purple, everyone was happy. There was never a reason to be depressed. There was never a reason to fall out of love.

Never a reason to start a blog and discuss bitterness.

This weekend gave me yet another reason to sit alone and over-analyse the intricacies of life. Run my plans for the future through my head and find reasons to revalidate them. You would think that this tires me out, drains the blood from every other part of my body, or tears me open from exhaustion - but it doesn't. I guess the pain keeps me awake.

Someone told me I would not be good enough to achieve what I want. It broke me. I felt like I had been laid down in front of them to be stepped on and then tossed to the side. It hurts not to be taken seriously, and even worse to be lied to that you are being taken seriously. Deep down I know that there is a burning jealousy within those who know me. I can feel it. I can feel the hate for something I can't recognise or fathom.

I know that there is something inside me that makes you want to hurt me.

But I can't let you do it. I can't let you take my dreams away from me. I want to break free from what I have been given and run from it as far as I can. To the other side of the world. To destiny.

Cheers.