The Impossible

I wish to speed off on an endless track where obstacles don't exist. Read minds without any talents. To live in a never ending fairytale where flowers are golden and man are nothing but perfect, far from the ones in reality, instead, ones that may possibly teach me the meaning of love. To experience the absence of white lies is what I crave. I need to be at a land where fantasies are hired and nightmares are fired. I wish for the unreal to be real, and the term "too good to be true" to be less feared. To be blown by the wind, to let it take the lead, and to let it bring me wherever it intends to. Have wings so that I could flee in the direction that might grant me my bittersweet intentions. These were the last train of thoughts I had embraced while on my deathbed, inhaling my last and longest breath.



Written by,
Juria Hartmans



*Picture taken from : http://ericfitzgerald.com/img/fine_art/art_1995_007_MyDeadman_smal.jpg