Chapter 3

The years I spent in high school were like a warm summer garden of wild roses and hopes. My dreams seemed to bloom with each day and my spirit traveled the world on the scented breeze of the wind. Those were years of perfection, even my angry tears were perfect, they made no sense then, but appear as a simple formula now. It was easy to cry about the unfairness of the law, or rather about how the morally weak but financially rich prey on the honest, it was easy to fall asleep praying that one day you will change the lives of those who suffered, I daydream that I would be the one to end all the pain, the wars, the hunger, it was normal to pray, wishing for the chance to lead people to a better destination. I would mostly live in my mind, wishing and imagining how I could perhaps make the bad see the good, how I could inspire a planet to become a united front, how I could convince myself that I will be able to change the destiny of people for the better, and mostly how hard I prayed that I do not become the people I wanted to protect the world from. When you look at the sun for too long you might loose your sight, so you go on live in a black hole with no light, and your once radiant figure will only cast shadows on earth. I wish not to be a burden, not to be a shadow, I wish to heal.  I wish my garden would bloom forever,I wish not to forget that those who have the power to help others, have the responsibility to do so.

Forgive and become stronger, build, perfect and protect.