I don't know who I am. Or who I want to be. Am i the artist? Am I the writer? Am I broken? Or is it just the dissatisfaction? I look in the mirror, and the million personas I wear stare right back at me. I want to be free of shackles. I want to fly, like the soaring birds in the sky, I want to float away, on the vast oceans. I want to string the words together like stands of pearls on a pearl necklace. I want to fall in love, and not just any love. A love so deep, so burning, it defeats any story I have read about. I want to be me. But I don't know who is the real me. So I will continue roaming this earth, trying to find my purpose. Trying to know me , so that when I look at the mirror, I will smile serenely, contently, knowing that I have found myself.
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