I begin to wonder if I am truly destined for a life of silent disatisfaction. A life that I willingly chose out of my own unbelief of my abilities but solemnly despise. A life in which each day, I wake up in hope that my life was not my own. A life that I am not living, but merely existing in. If only I could dream again. Dream without being bound to the chains of my mind. Oh to dream freely again. Oh to dream.

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