i build expectations higher than any reality could ever live up to. i build them into the stars and wonder why these earthly things can never reach them. i want my dreams to be much more than just dreams, i want my dreams to have dreams and those dreams to have dreams and i want my reality to exceed each and every one of those dream's dream's dreams.
i dream about my arms extending, not only beyond the atmosphere of earth, but outside of the milky way galaxy. but my arms can only reach a couple of feet and my body is immediately filled with disappointment and grief. maybe mountains should be enough. or simply these rolling hills. but, no. i want a universe in the palm of my hands. and then i curse those very palms for not being able to hold it all. expectations. one day, they will be the death of me. but don't get me started on what i expect in my death. because i'm sure heaven will never be enough. i want more. i demand more. i need more! but all i have are rolling hills and palms that are far too small and dreams that continue to dream of better dreams that my short arms can never reach. |
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October 2020
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