Such a frustrating time this is. Starting to submerged once again into a familiar spot. About to walk through a door that will lead to either terminal bliss or terminal despair that will undoubtedly finish me off. It's sad. Every night as I drift to sleep, I see what I imagine is my warm place. A place where I have the only two things that matter. As it stands, I will likely never have any of them, which explains why this time period garners the name "dream." You have to take my word for it, it's there. You can reach, and for an instant, it's so close, only to slip further and further away, but stil come back every now and then to torture you. Could I have made a diffeence in one of them? In reality, that questionable. I do know, it wasn't supposed to happen then. But, what about now? Have we metamorphasized into state perpetual contentment? Or is it all just just out of reach? Hidden behind a veil of false hope. I really hope not, for if this is the case, we stand on the verge of a life so magical and so real, that it can only be described as serinity, a utopia where destiny and real life converge. From there, we write the chapters and perhaps, there will be a "happily ever after." I'm just afraid that this isn't how dreams work. In essence I maybe chasing multiple unicorns, only to find myself shrouded in permanent midnight. Now, the question is "Do I still believe?" Or am I fading away? Slowly eroding into hollow shell of bitterness and sadness, asking the simple question,"Why? What did I do? And how can I make amends?" It really is becoming too much to bear. I can only hope and pray to find utopia within that perfect drug.