Oh how I've lost my way. And it seems that I never had it to begin with. Yet, I feel like I did and I let it go out of stupidity. Who was I supposed to be back in that time?
All I can think of is how I've lost my way and I'm losing more, the more I think about it. Gotta do something, but all I do is dwell. It's a waste of time, a cursed spell. Something straight out of a story with magic, curses, and monsters. I'm nothing special.
I just keep getting older and less experienced in the things that seem to matter. Once I gather myself and come to understand one thing, it's irrelevant. Time is passing, but I'm not aging in my mind. I have useless wisdom and I'm selling it for free.
Come to think of it, losing my way is the only consistent aspect of my life. Writing about it is another. Dreaming about it, another. Being this character in general is killing me sometimes. I don't want to be who I am if this is it. I need to start over, fresh, in another city, another land. This land isn't working out for me. Maybe another will be a catalyst for brighter days.
Worry plagues my mind, from all sides. No one's in my head, no one can understand. You have your own concerns, thoughts, and comparisons to make. But my pain is my own, and the only one who can save me is myself. But still, I won't do it.
