It is strange. Life is strange.

To think that you are this person.
This amazing, gifted person.
That you are able to see the light through darkness.
That you are able to see stars when the clouds have wrecked their havoc upon this ground.

The belief that you are something more.
The belief that your pieces create more than just a pretty picture.

But in reality you're not.

Because all you ever were was sorry.

And it's still not good enough.