Sometimes I wonder why I keep fighting for a dream that I wish to come true that won't likely ever happen. Always wanting to be a part of the stars when my feet are stuck on the ground below me. This is what I get for being an idealist. I just don't want the thing I adore to go off into oblivion and never be seen/heard of again. It's too beautiful to waste. I have no idea why more people don't know how truly beautiful it is. Trouble is, not everyone can like everything.
“Thoughts are the shadows of our feelings -- always darker, emptier and simpler.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche