Down to Earth When I’d Rather Be Stuck in the Clouds

My sense of realism, in personal sight, is my greatest weakness.

It cripples my thoughts into visions of potential catastrophe.

It hurts. Looking around seeing people dreaming of what they want & what they believe is a possibility.

I sit observing what is occurring around me & I start to build my mental files of every person that sticks out in my mind. Most I know not their names, but their face, oh the faces always imprint into my mind.

I learn people, I get to know them without knowing them personally… who they REALLY are.

I’m learning about me too, though I’m not so good with pinpointing myself.

I don’t like this knowledge I gain, knowing how the world REALLY is.

The world IS beautiful, but the beauty is running out.

People sucking what they can out of anything that shows them kindness.

Why am I am to see this when others live so blissfully imaginative?

Many dreams are not possible & the inhabitants of this world are so disgustingly naturally selfish, even myself. But I can see this. Why can’t others?

They think what they can gain, what they can be, what all can come to their good.

I see what will NEVER happen.

Why do I see what is so impossible for myself while the next person honestly believes they can do anything?

Why is image so quickly absorbed before actual internal content?

I want to live in a dream so badly, yet here I am living in observation of the hideous truth.

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