Sometimes, there are moments that just hit me, like a sudden gust of memories that reminds me of things I’ve tried to forget and perhaps hide in the compartments of my mind. Also, it’s in the stillness— in these calm, unguarded moments— all of it comes back to life. Before I know it, the weight of those memories hits me, pulling me into a space where I’m left standing at a crossroads, with nostalgia on one side and reality on the other, wondering how I ended up here, caught between what was and what could have been.
Chasing dreams sometimes feels like balancing on a knife’s edge, and in the rush, I end up hurting those closest to me without even realizing it. I sometimes get so locked onto the goal that the quiet chaos I left behind slips right past me. It often feels like I am wandering through an endless maze, and with each turn, it feels like I’m losing pieces of the world I once thought I had figured out. What once shimmered with hope now feels distorted and distant. Justice and love—concepts that used to feel clear and solid—have become heavy weights I struggle to carry.
Each step feels like moving through deep water, heavy and slow, as if the more I try to push forward, the stronger the current pulls me back. Laughter, once so easy, now seems like a distant sound—fading and out of reach—while the people I care about slowly blur into the background. Their faces, once clear, are now slipping away, becoming shadows I can barely hold in my mind. Everything that once felt close and real drifts further, leaving only a quiet ache where connection used to be.
This darkness feels like a thick fog that I can’t quite shake off. I drift through it sometimes, just moving forward with no sense of direction. Memories of bliss starts to blur... But I stilI hang on to this fragile memory of when everything was whole, complete... but now it’s like I am trying everything to piece together these shards of glass—broken and scattered under the weight of everything real. I keep reaching, trying to find that flicker of hope, something to lead me back into the light, but it always fades, leaving me in this endless search.
And in that search, I feel like I’m suffocating under expectations I never agreed to. It’s like everyone’s waiting for me to mess up, like they’re just watching, waiting for the cracks to show. There’s this constant pressure, so quiet yet always there, and I burn myself out running after dreams that seem to vanish the closer I get. By the end of it, all I have left are the ashes of what I thought I wanted, and I wonder—have I been chasing something that was never mine to begin with? Or was I just running in circles, lost in someone else’s idea of who I should be?
This night, as I lie awake, I wonder if happiness is something I’ll ever hold. Suspended between what I dream of and the harshness of reality, I’m stuck in a space where neither quite belongs.
Chasing peace in all this chaos—it feels like running after a shadow. Still, I hold onto this fragile hope, whispering a soft farewell to the moon, as if I’m saying goodbye to a piece of myself I can no longer reach.
Goodnight, Moon... Maybe tomorrow, maybe then, I’ll find my way back.
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