I thought that I was living my life to the max, I thought I felt alive and I thought I couldn’t do it any better..
But then I woke up one day, not from a dream after I had slept..
No, I woke up as if something had smacked me in the face while I was already awake..
I realised that all these years of “living my life” were wasted and gone..
Yes I had fun and yes I’ve experienced things that for some would only happen in their wildest imagination..
But I got too distracted and forgot who I am in this whole process because I was too busy to consume and be consumed..
It seems like as if my "Future Me" travelled back in time to get my Alive tattoo done just so that two years later I would question whether I’m really doing this thing called life correctly or how I truly intended for it to be like ->
Feeling Alive rather than just be content with the given task of existing…
I was naïve to think that the pages of my book were full and colourful but in reality they’re still blank apart from the first page and this silly page looks worn out and is merely a repetition of the same mistakes and foolishness..
I guess it’s called "growing up"..