some times when i lie in my bed i think of various books i have read.

I think of all those charascters so beautifly shaped, about the heroes and their bravery, how might and heroic they are,i remember my dad sitting and leading me trough enchanted worlds of fairytails,i imagined kingdome made of pure white marble and thir princesses in those heavy dresses,i imagined villans baithed in evil,standing in the darkness, and died cowardly.
I had the most wonderful world in my head, i was fearless, i was a knight of my own kingdome,i was a good guy,the one who brings justice the one that slashes evil dragons and saves the beautiful lady,the one the crowd likes.
And along the way everything got blurred,the princesses were drag queens,the kindome didn't exist ,and i dont know what went wrong,i don't know if i am a hero anymore,or a bad guy,i grew up thinking that justice beat evil,always...actually i have imagined the world differently...
                                   but this definietly wasn't the ending i imagined.