Yay for 30! And the killing of dreams...

I spent an entire day roaming Walt Disney's world determined to make it inside the castle before the days end.  From far away its enchanting all lit up and dazzling.  Ever since I was a little girl, I had imagined it to be a symbol of infinite happiness, breath taking and beautiful.  Clean and pure and finely decorated.  When I was small I dreamed of a castle full of calm and happy servants and humble and loving occupants.  Id wish that the majesties would see me and adopt me, because I too could share in their mission of making dreams come true.  I purposely made my way to the castle before my nights end, sure that I had saved my child hood dream, the best for last.  I made it to the grandiose opening and there stood a male servant, handling the rope that allowed people to come and go.  He turned to me and said "reservation?"  I say "oh? no, do I need a reservation to go in the castle?"  He laughed, "nobody goes in the castle unless your like a multi- billionaire! bahahaha!"  I say " Huh?!  So what do you see then, when you come to this castle?   What is its point? "  You can eat dinner in Cinderella's restaurant or walk through the 10 meter tunnel to the other side.  Dreams dead, as empty and shallow as the tunnel through.  Boo urns.

Same Ole Love Shit.

"And you taught me what this feels like.
And then how it feels to lose it.
And you showed me who I wanted.
And then who I wasn’t.
And you ticked every box.
And then drew a line.
And you weren’t mine to begin with.
And then not to end with.
And you looked like everything I wanted.
And then became something I hated.
And you get thought of every day.
And then not in a good way.
And you let me leave.
And then wish I’d stayed.
And you almost killed me.
But I didn’t die.”

—	I Wrote This For You