Lost in a book

I love story books Why. Because they are very creative and let people use their imagination. No. Because they have a begging and an ending. It’s a sense of comfort. You can skip to the last past if you want or you can read the whole story. And that’s all it is. A story it’s not real life. It’s not real. It’s a place you can let yourself get trapped into to escape the real world. It’s a place that is secure. You know how it starts and you have the option of knowing how it ends at any given time. But sometimes you don’t know how to start. And you especially don’t know how to end. You don’t have a guide and you most certainly don’t have a map. No one tells you which way to go. And the second you get someone that tries to guide you they will lead you off a cliff. Your story is unedited. It is raw. It is whatever way you want it to be. It’s your choice. You have the power even when it seems like nothing is in your control. It is. You are the one that chose to walk off the cliff, to follow the path, to listen to the person that guided you and to lose track of yourself. I only wish it was as easy as just taking a few steps back, flipping a few pages to fix it. But it isn’t. One day you will wake up and realize that you’re not where you want to be. And you’re not who you want to be. And the harsh reality is the only person you can blame is yourself.


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