I once cared deeply about that fact. Read countless books and cried many times re-reading my works. Nowadays, I care much less, and write to write, so long as the process is enjoyable.
There's much I wanted to do and become in this life and, as days wear on, and my age wears out, some of those fantasies have drained from my reality. I know not of what I will be—only some of what I must do. All of my ambitions have thinned to a single desire. To be in a dark room, one with colorful lights, and not be forced to leave for quite some time.
Maybe that's how life goes.
You want the world when you're young.
And you want to be left alone in a room when you're old.
There's much I wanted to do and become in this life and, as days wear on, and my age wears out, some of those fantasies have drained from my reality. I know not of what I will be—only some of what I must do. All of my ambitions have thinned to a single desire. To be in a dark room, one with colorful lights, and not be forced to leave for quite some time.
Maybe that's how life goes.
You want the world when you're young.
And you want to be left alone in a room when you're old.
Well not sure what to say but hope you're having a good day