Personally or just coming to some sort of conclusion that’s not truly right, I lack so many things that keep me happy. I’ve grasped so many ideal and tangible things in which it personifies in one way or another contentment until the length washes out. A few years ago I wouldn’t say I was in the same position and nights would be spent over viewing my life and what feels off. But who doesn’t feel truly content with their life and eventually finds their way out; maybe I’m spending too much time thinking about it.

Everyone at some point travels in the same boat that goes no where and tries to have that fresh breath of air again. For me, I’ve been traveling in my own boat going through dense fog and storms turning my world upside down. Right now I’m in that position where everything is scattered and mixed; lost in my own mess where I only listen to me alone.

Waiting for that one day where things turn around and I can finally smile for real.