I failed yesterday.
But that doesn’t matter, ‘cause I fail everyday.
When I ***** up a presentation.
It brings about a new sensation.
One of hatred and self-doubt.

My brain’s suffering a drought.
A lack of motivation.
Little information. Too many interpretations.
How can I function when I can’t think straight?
Too many variables. The consequences too great.

That’s why I do nothing.
Instead of presenting, I’m running.
Far, far away from everyone.
To a place where there’s no one. Anyone.
But me and my mind.

I’ve let people down.
My family, my friends. Their faces have frowns.
I’m such a *****-up. I want to disappear.
I’m just tired of all these stupid fears.
I turn around. Try to go back. But I hit a wall.
Instead of improving, I fall.
Back into old habits.
It’s like playing a game. Playing gambits.

I stand up there. On stage.
My heart is pounding. An internal rage.
Thoughts are swirling inside my head.
All I want now is to go to bed.
No, no! I won’t accept defeat.
I’ve come too far just to fall and taste concrete.
So, even if it’s terrible, even if nobody hears me.
I’m going to try, and that’s what it’s gonna be.
‘Cause I think in the end, trying something will be my savior.
Instead of simply relapsing into failure.

Waiting is the worst.
I wait for the day where you tell me the truth.
Where you tell me you love me.
The day where I break free from these shackles of mine.
Where people stop telling me to just ‘be happy.’
The day where I can talk to people without fear of judgment.
Where I can ride elevators without fear of them malfunctioning.
And crashing into the depths below.
I just want all my worries to disappear. I want to escape this pit my brain created.
I’m just suffering, but you’re here by my side, helping me through it all.

Why?

I’m waiting for the day where you answer that question of mine.

I hate my pillow.
The pillow I have is hard.
Like a brick.
No matter how much I toss and turn
Or adjust my head
It still feels the same.

I want a new pillow.
So I go out and buy one.
And when I sleep at night
It’s not hard. It’s soft.
I bury my face in it. Smile and chuckle.
Because now, it feels different.
Now, I don’t hate pillows.

I found the one that suits me.

Balloons, balloons!
Floating through the air
Balloons, balloons!
Floating without a care
They’re all sorts of different colors
And all sorts of different shapes!
Some are round and others look like animals
They look so cute. I want to hold one.
So I walk up to the salesman with a coin in hand.
“One balloon please,” I say, as kind as I can.
And now, I grasp the string in between my fingers.
The sensation, it lingers.
So I release it and watch the balloon float up.
My body fills with glee, so I jump.
The balloon, it’s soaring high.
Forever lost, above the puffy clouds in the sky.

A familiar scene is displayed before me.
A plate, piled high with an assortment of foods.
The smells, still filling my nostrils.
The bacon, crisp, and warm between my fingers.
The pancakes, drenched in hot syrup.
Scrambled eggs, with ketchup on top.
And me, seated before it all.
I pop a bacon strip into my mouth. Savor the crunchy taste.
I stab a pancake with a fork and eat it as well. The syrup is sweet.
The different flavors, each of them intertwining on my tongue.
My mouth is watering…I want more.
So I stand and take my plate with me to the stove.
Hash browns. Corned beef. And more.
Seconds, prepare to be devoured!