Looking Back

Looking back...

Seeing the memories, the pain, the mistakes...
The stupidity, the ignorance, the laziness...
All of these don't justify, but give excuses...
The real mistake was in me...
I let myself fall down from everyone's expectations...
Let myself become someone that doesn't care...
Life is a game, and right now I'm on the losing end...
Have I lost completely?
Or only drug myself down so far that winning now seems impossible...
The future holds great opportunities, but for everyone?
Once wanting to be an intimidating journalist, I'm now stuck with the hardships of getting through high school...
I have a feeling I can't write my way out of this rut...
A hole I've dug so deep for myself that I wonder now what the reason is to try at all to succeed...
If not for myself, then for whom?
For my family?
Can I make my mother proud and accept my diploma, being one of the first to do so in my family?
Or will all of their hopes and my own hopes vanish, due to my naive grasp of life?
A grasp I thought was firm, but a harsh slap of reality has shown me that it is not...
What will become of my tainted life?
Will I become a strong writer?
Will I end up in a time-consuming dead-end job where the only thing that is satisfying is the pay?
No.
My talents are far greater than most will assume...
Because they're tucked away in the shadows, eager to come out, but hardly having the chance...
I dream of being successful, having a great career and family...
But maybe I should realize that all of those things are what they are...
Dreams...
Never more, and never less...
I have genuine talent to write, but do I have the commitment?
Do I have the will and inspiration to put into my writing?
Do I have the strength to let myself be consumed by deadlines?
I believe I have all of this, deep within myself...
Not brought out yet, only seen by myself in my own writing...
Someday I'll assume a position in an office, lower than that of those around me...
They with experience, I with none...
My writing is no longer my own, it now belongs to a corporate office, being seen by many...
But none who read it will feel the emotions felt by me while writing...
None will ever know the story behind the story...
They'll smile and give compliments, and every once in a while there will be those who care enough to ask about the emotions behind my writing...
But will they ever truly understand?
Doubful.
The feeble mind of the reader won't grasp the true meaning...
They won't see that the symbolism is evident in my own life...
But it will give me great satisfaction to be able to write about my experiences...
To use my pain and my mistakes as inspiration...
It's all part of a healing process, that has just begun and will never end...