Lamentation of pathetic being

I won’t make a difference...no, I am too weak too lazy too much fatalistic to ever succeed.

I always wanted to be like them, those who are part of an exclusive circle having made a difference, either in writing, painting, creating, singing, fighting for a cause.

"THEM": people like Chequevara, Virginia Woolf, Spielberg,Da Vinci, Freud....these people who belong to the race of the winners.

Instead I’m just me, an ordinary person, who feel the ordinary desperation of living an ordinary life, who won’t ever really succeed and who is more likely going to end up with millions of `IF ONLY` at the end .

I go by on the street and people just pas me by as if i am invisible...This make me want to scream out : "Hey i`m here! I exist! Why can`t you see me?!!"

My today is actually a copy of yesterday and a rehearsal of tomorrow.I am constantly harassed between getting up in time, taking the bus in time, at work in time,eating in time...time time time!If i could stop it for just a minute, to live a bit instead of merely surviving...

That’s who I am. I wish…oh I wish I was different, able to live and fight for my dreams, instead of feeling so stupidly fatalist.

We have been trained to be fatalist; my generation is that of an old youth, where at twenty years old, you feel so bone weary and desperate that you have the soul of an old woman.

I wish so much to have had a life full of passion, of euphoria, of pain even, for without pain, pleasure is nothing. An exciting life, kind of like a whirlwind, where you keep feeling....feeling so much, so intensely each passing minute.

Instead of this indifferent monotony in which I have fallen, where my days, months, years seem to be a repetition again and again. I`m one like millions of others instead of one IN millions others...Oh how I wish...I wish...