I am an optimist... or t least I was.
When I look at the things that I've written I do not see hope.
I see sadness. Hopelessness. Dispair.
I see the walking dead. A person stuck in a snowglobe - an imitation of life.
When did I stop dreaming of flying and start dreaming of rocks - where worms, ants and maggots live?
My next goal? Remembering how to soar.
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