Monday, April 20, 2015
Dreaming of a Place that's 8,156 Miles Away
All my friends getting together, wishing I were there, but I am never. Sitting in a place full of college kids taking naps, sometimes even hearing cries of stress, but I'm dreaming of a place called home. I want to run away, dreaming of the place full of motorcycles honking nonstop and full of street foods. This place is just ain't the same, I miss the humid weather and the occasional rain. I miss families, I miss laughters, I miss 5.2. Crying, homesickness, and shitty people are getting tiring, really tiring. I'm dreaming of a place 2,000 miles away. It feels like it has been forever since I've seen the leaf-houses, been on the back seat of motorcycles and "flying" , eaten the food I grew up eating; it fees like it has been forever since life was great. And God... It has been forever since I was surrounded by nothing but genuineness. I can see, now, why this place is called the country of Ruined Dreams and Shattered Hopes. Take me home to families, to happiness, to true friendships, to better, bigger hearts, to my rivers, to my rice fields, to my small houses, to my country. Skyscrappers full of people who take too much and give too little, big houses full of families who aren't really families, highways full of drivers who care more about selves than the bigger peace, almighty Universities full of professors who don't really care where students end up, hallways full of friends who don't even know the real meaning of friendship; they're all getting really tiring and the dark side of the American Dream is dancing its way to the spotlight way too quickly. Take me home before it all collapses; before my heart full of drives, goodness, and hopes collapses. Take me home before this place kills all that I value. I'm not okay.