As I Grow Older

 As I grow older, dreams have begun haunting me again. I thought that that phase of my life was far gone but history has an uncanny habit of plagiarism. The dreams however, differ on a molecular level from the ones from the 'Dark Ages'. They used to be disturbing, scary, horrific, giri, sadistic and masochistic. The second coming has brought forth more desire driven dreams in this disoriented daze that we call sleep. It is ironic how these dreams keep me up. So many hours of the night have I wasted pondering over these delirious delusions. But perhaps that is my purpose, my sense of existence to finally be of some use to the society. 

But then why am I reluctant to accept my destiny? What is it that makes a person play make belief even after they're an adult? I can't have my purpose be to lose sleep over hallucinations. I am not gonna go down as a nobody. I'm gonna leave my mark on the whole bloody world. When I grow up, j am gonna make sure people think twice before insulting or harassing anyone who dares to be weird. Which is just a fancy way of saying "different".