whatever i am or whoever i am is never what i want to be. if there were no one else, would that still be the case? i read about them. and their lives. and their likes. and their hates. and their creationsfetishesfavoritecolorsbookssongstea. and i want half their talent most of their ability and all of their ambition.

why is this ideal that i yearn for something that everyone else can attain or not and thats okay that works but i will never feel like what i want is what i have; like all i want is in my reach or not and thats okay.

i wonder. wonder what is missing. how i can fill that. how i can change that. how i can improve.

but each of those

small

little

things

they won't change ME.

thats the part i can never get.

i am not those people. people interest me and i lovethemenvythemhatethem because they let themselves be them. original.

and with all the attempts and thoughts of adopting all the trivial little things they have that i like. the little thoughts and actions and opinions and collections, i will always be a step behind. a poor rendition of their beautiful creation that i so envy.

where is the exit. how