There is a river that everyone wants to cross.
And everyone wants to be on the other side,
believing that it's there that everything lies.

And some wish to cross it, because
they are running towards something,
while others wish to cross it, because
they are running away from something.

But in the end, it is we who need to build
the bridge, and not wait for someone else
to do it for us.

i have lived
my life.
i have made friends and
mistakes and love, and
all the other things between.

i mean, i don't like to go out much - so what?
i like my room quiet - is that weird?
solitude is
sorta my
thing.
i feel alive, there.

my thoughts, alone,
in my
head, are
still real.

i have
lived my life
******. yet
i still feel
a hand
as cold as the window sill
in the middle of winter
crawl up my back
and give me that
condescending pat -
"we know, kiddo. we know."

if only
my boredom
could become alien
to me. maybe
then i could
feel, again.