I was so full of this feeling, this overpowering impression of not belonging to this velvet world of writing.
Until the moment when I saw myself and the others in my spirit.
I would never have thought I could find the words, phrase, create and then write them down so that they compensate for what I see and feel.

But then something happened, and the only way to process it,
to understand it, was to recognise it and let it out through writing.

It is terrible to be forced to wear a new mask every day.
It is terrible to have to see before you what you dream of every day,
but your hands fail to reach it.
It is terrible that you cannot do
what you dream of, but every other person can.
It is terrible that you have to wear this smile every second of the day,
so that no one sees the weakness and the pain
that have taken hold in your heart.
It is terrible to be forced to do
what they want you to do, until the moment when you forget
who you are, what your dreams are, all that you could achieve.

You are forced to do all of these things, but every day,
every minute, every second you feel the faults within you.
Then you achieve nothing at all, although everything would be so easy.
Your brain circles constantly around the same thoughts,
until you see your future, destroyed, before you,
and your self disappears.