“expectations were like fine pottery. the harder you held them, the more likely they were to crack.”

(credits to forkvatch1 on WordPress)

I’m so tired of getting all my hopes up when they were all bound to shatter anyway.

I’m tired of having dreams and being almost unable to achieve them.

I’m tired of having to restrain my spirit; it is not natural to keep the free-roaming by nature on a leash. it feels like trying to fit a cube block into a smaller-sized circle hole. only, I am the cube and while I will eventually fit over time with wear, I will be changed for life and have parts of me taken away simply to accommodate myself fitting into this hole. I will never be the same.

and perhaps that would be the perfect metaphor to describe how I would be staying here. the longer I stay and try to fit myself into this hole, to mould myself into the expected norm, the more I will lose myself until I’ve transformed into something completely different from what I used to be.

I’ve held my hopes too hard and too high and now I’m paying the price of watching them all fall down.

“Expectations were like fine pottery. The harder you held them, the more likely they were to crack.”
― The Way of Kings, Brandon Sanderson

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