the failure

the thing is: we would never have worked out. it just wasn’t meant to be. i mean, we could’ve try, but we would fail. i’ve never seen two people so different in so many ways, even if we had so much in common.

you like to travel for the things you can buy, when i like to travel for the memories i can have after. you like your music cause it’s fun and distractive, i like my music cause it makes me feel. you like art cause it’s pretty, i like art cause it’s moving. you’re addicted to sensations, i’m addicted to emotions. you seem to be impressed by the life you’re living, and i’m never satisfied with mine, cause i know i can do better, i can feel better, i can be better. i can be a better professional, i can be a better daughter, i can be a better person, i can be a better self. i’m not the best version of myself, and i should’ve be trying to get there, but instead i’m not even able to get out of my bed on time.

it’s almost 3AM and i’m not sleeping cause i’m here, writing all these things you’ll never read and even if you read these, you wouldn’t understand for two reasons: 1) you don’t speak english; 2) you’re not like me, and only people with this much scars in their heart will fully understand the way i feel about failing.

i embrace the failure. i am the failure.


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