It's funny how they only approve of me when I fit the mold that they chose for me. It's innocent, I know, but a part of me rages at the thought. That all these years, I've been living in the shadow of what I'm expected to be, of what I'm expected to become.
Something in my head keeps screaming at me, keeps compelling me to do something crazy. Something drastic. Something they'd never expect, never approve of.
But at least the choice would be mine.
I want my life to be mine.
YOU ARE READING
Serenity - A Journal Of Some Sort
RandomThey tell me that what I create is chaos. But what I create is the only thing that brings me serenity. ~ warning: this book abruptly switches from deep personal narratives to really random stuff so hop on and enjoy the ride
