The script goes on cue. Every time, all the time.
Quite frankly, I am quite sick of it. Is it not mine to be?
Why is so difficult?
Questions like this frustrate me often. Yet I still cannot find the answers.
Am I not ready? Am I just an idealist fool?
What actually lies ahead for me?
Am I to write my own destiny or believe in the pre-written?
Either way, I was not born to be this that makes me loathe myself for what is the thing now for me. Of that, I am sure.
The confidence...