Stolen words

It's been a long time since my last post, and a lot has been going on. I have a lot to think about right now, and no doubt that shows in the post. It's not like me, but it has to be said. It really has to be said. I am nothing but stolen words. Ideals and values procured from the facets of history, and the pages of the novels that I devour. My dreams of grandeur nothing more than romanticised expectations of what is to come. I have no real purpose. My dreams are simply suggestions that have ingrained in my small mind over the years. Stolen words. A copy, of a copy, of a copy. I wake, I eat, I work, I sleep. That is all. I feel I have lived this life a million times. That everyday is the same, and every day I feel slightly more unsettled by the drab predictability of the world that surrounds me. War. Hunger. Poverty. The monotony will never end. Stolen words. Deja vu all over again. We dreamt of being kings. We dreamt of glory, of honour and of love. But day by day we grow older, and day by day memories of boyhood dwindle, carried off by the wind. I say my life is what I make of it. I say I make my own luck. All of them, stolen words. What I would give to live free of the ever constricting grip that tightens like an anaconda around my me. I envy you brothers and sisters. Sometimes I truly do. The world is changing. Morphing into a hideous being beyond recognition. And I weep for it. I weep for us all. If only we were more than stolen words. I have failed myself. I have become all of which I once sought to destroy and despoil. My life has changed, and there is no way to return to what once was. There never is. I've hurt some people overtime, and I'm sorry. You've brought me close to the brink, but don't ever think that I'm going to give up.

I went to sleep and I woke up dead,
But I changed my mind and I want to live.