I had to reblog this… it’s like this was written to me. Wasting life is tragic, we have to live.

S. K. Nicholas

In the moments that follow, my mind is elsewhere. In the months and years of uncertainty, sometimes you just can’t seem to find yourself. That youthful mind. That lucid voice. They were always somewhat lacking. Dulled into submission, things fall apart. As time passes, you lose sight of what you are. The magic that once made you great, left to haunt like all those terrible ghosts. And the ghosts get beneath your skin. They infect, and before you know it, you’re half the man you used to be. Too much doubt, and not enough vision. Too much time spent listening to reason, and not enough time believing in the madness of creation. It’s simple, yet it takes it out of you. To find the right path, has the ability to break you down. It reduces. Confuses. It leaves to weak. It leaves you empty. But the best things in life…

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