It is difficult thing, accepting the idea that we do not always grow up to become the people we once dreamed of being. Somewhere along the voyage of life, abreast the fickle trade winds of fate that blow our ships here and there on a whim, somewhere we fall from the charted path and enter the doldrums of mediocrity. Our winds, once steadfast and strong, leave us to power other, faster and more seaworthy vessels, and we scrape and scrabble for whatever wisps of breeze that we can manage, clawing our way through the irons and towards the old dream. But the dream, like the wind, has died. The shores of our destination fade out of sight as the tides carry us away into nothing.
FiLtHy_PrAnKz will never reach their golden shores. Let us hang our heads.
