sometimes i wonder what the point of living is. 
we watch our elders perform the same tasks each day. go to work, come home, eat, pay bills, sleep, and repeat. every. day.

for me, i would never be satisfied by that. i want to go and… just go. i don’t care where.
i want to meet people and be known for something big and DO something great. 

but then the pessimist inside my brain laughs at my naïvety and mocks my heart for ever thinking i could be something great. and my guts are too much a coward to end this painful routine.