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    pyscho-babble 3

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    by , 07-13-2010 at 01:22 PM (443 Views)

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    I close my eyes to escape the world around me, revisiting a time in my childhood where I felt happy. It's amazing how fast time flew, once I was a lil boy whose imagination knew no bounds. And now, I am a man struggling to be profound. Ironically, I have found that even in sorrow there is poetry, a simple kind of harmony whose bitter sweet rhapsody reminds us that we are alive. Though it is hardening at times, for even now I fell as if a part of me is dying inside. I try to find that place in between the extremes but it seems life's bullying banter won't barter my pain no matter how hard I cling to truth. Is it my folly, is my logic obtuse, what part of me that I am failing to make use? And yet, the darkness creeps, hunting me in my dreams and nipping at my feet. For hours, I'd stare into the mirror bewitched by the question. Where did I go wrong? What is it that I obviously am not able to see? I guess we are not all meant to be great even when we have what it takes.

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