so cruel, so practical, so damaging.

and what's left of the ___?

beware, i fear that i am fragile.

there isn't really a clear, delightful or warm ambiance ahead waiting, just tons and tons of heavy mists dripping apprehension all over, getting closer and closer by the day as our age falls off clandestinely.

it must be really comforting, or even exciting to have an obvious light somewhere out there.

because i fear that i am delicate.

(and of what may come next)

decisions, decisions.

all of us loiters around dark holes, uncertain as we watch some of the others jump in decisively.

but i hold back,

petrified of the musical tinkling when ___ shatters.

(and then sometimes i wonder how conforming we have become, stifling creativity and impeding true passion or potential, or paths wrongly taken since young, all because of this meritocratic and rote learning education?)

Just for this once,

Please be brave.

Please be strong.

(because I will be stronger)