As good as I may be at spitting out poems about injustice and social rage, as tough as I may sound or pretend to be, as cynical and jaded as I may talk and walk, none of that is really who I want to be. I don't want money and fame or power to remake the world as I see fit. Wouldn't be able to handle the responsibility of political power anyway. Honestly I don't even really want to be the person my 18 year old self wanted, and yet have become, almost without realizing it. He would envy me, my younger self, of the life I live now. Beholden to no one, doing basically whatever I want as long as I can afford the rent and make myself go to work after nights full of pointless hedonism. But that entire veneer, yes even some of my writing, is just to make up for this hole that runs right through the middle of me. All I really want, is to return from whence I came. Be a teacher or something, write a bit on the side, have that mystery called true love and family, maybe own a bit of land just for us, somewhere on the edge of a small town full of artists and good honest folk. Coastline or mountains make no difference to me, the language spoken not really that important either. I'll go anywhere and do anything I can to find this dream that I tend to not ever talk about, since it is the one true thing that I have ever really wanted deep down inside, even if my younger self would've denied it.