all i want is to express my self in a healthy way, that also furfills all of my dreams and desires, is that too much to ask for?? really??? maybe, yes. maybe it is. i know that in real life I have to work for and at things i want to aspire to be, i know nothing is eazy so why do i expect it to be? i keep living in this wierd dreamworld that only consists of me imagining all of my potentiel being used for something, meanwhile all of the time when it doesn't, all of the time when it is wasted i blame myself for ruining my future and my life.

-- so this is really messy, filled with spelling errors and stuff, but pretty fun excercise none the less.

Salty winds on my face and sand beneath my feet

a giant sun is shining, I can not take the heat.

Right there in front of me the ocean waves offer relief

but I dare not take one step forward, my courage was stolen by a theif.

I look all around me, I am the only one here

a moment i stand there thinking, then my heart is stricken with fear.

For my courage was not stolen I simply lost it and I've no idea where

now my feet are burning, I can not move, I can only stare.

As I'm laying here, old and withered, every hour is a giant leap towards the dark embrace, that is the inevitable end, we all must meet. I know, that I have to transcribe to you, my deepest, most darkest secret. Something I never dared mention to you or anyone else before, and still something I will never utter, with the exception of the words I'm writing down in this letter right now. For it is something so terrible and maddening, that speeking of it could drive a sane man crazy, yet it is also too important to die with me. The world deserves to know it, and so do you. But be aware, reading this may couse you immense discomfort and pain. I could not recommend it to anyone, but it is a choice you will have to make yourself. Many years ago, before I met you, or before I met many of the friends we share, I was a young man looking to make a name for myself in the field of anthropology. At the time, the world was not as small as it is today, there were still many undiscovered cultures, which could serve as great research material. Feeling I had nothing to lose, I went with a small group of people, deep into the Amazon rainforest, to find an isolated tribe of people called the Inqwu. The Inqwu were notorious for having a religion and culture so vastly different from anything else in the world, and there were very little written about them as a people and about their strange and otherwordly gods. Me and a colleague of mine, had hired a pair of local guides to help of through the thick rainforest. In the beginning they seemed very friendly and trustworthy, we had some trouble communicating because of the languish barrier, but I was able the show them where we wanted to go. The happy start to our journey, would soon turn sour though. Not far from the location of the Inqwu city, our guides suddenly turned around and started running away, screaming words I did not understand. At first I thought I had been scammed, and had been taking into the jungle by thiefs, who would leave me hear to die. But as I looked ahead I saw something, that made me think the screams and the yelling from our guides were not fake, but were real fear. Now it was only me and my colleague, who shall remain nameless for reasons I will not disclose in this letter, and in front of where giant statue, and we new this was the entrance to the Inqwu city. For the statue was a depiction of something I had never seen before, an animal for sure, but not one that roamed this planet. It was truly grotesque, I almost refrain from describing it. Its body mostly resembled that of a tiger, but instead of fur it was covered in scale, its eyes did were unnaturally large and looked dead like those of a shark. The sight made me shiver, and my colleague suggested that we followed the lead of our fleeing guides and return bag to civilization. He was clearly scared, and so was I, but nevertheless I managed to convince him and convince myself, that we could not turn back, that we had a duty, not only to ourselves, but to our profesion. So together we ventured past the statue, into the city. What we saw in there, I will never tell or write about for one simple reason: on our way back my colleague suggested we split the credit for our findings, even though it was I who persuaded him into going inside the city, when he wanted to turn back. He said he would publish the findings no matter what I did, so one night when he was sleeping I gathered all our work and burned it all. It was only fitting, I thought. Years later my colleague went back to find the Inqwu's but he never returned from the jungle and the Inqwu's were never heard of or seen again. Their city is still there but the miracles and mysteries we saw in our time there, will never be known to the outside world. I take with me to the grave no regret, for any of my actions during that time in my life. I only write this in the hopes that someday someone will go back to the Inqwu city, search the giant tempel in the middle of the city and find the secret pathway that exists wihtin it. If that happens the person who does this, must seal the pathway forever. I cannot stress enough how important that is, but I must also warn you; do not try to follow the pathway. If you go there, you will smell the salt of ocean waves, but it will not lead you to the sea, it will only lead you to suffering.

"It was an accident, it was an accident, it was an accident" the same four words repeating themselves, an endless cycle going round and round, inside his head, as he's driving down an empty road, in the middle of the night. Tall buildings line up along the road, with only a sporadic appearance of life coming from inside them, in the form of lights shinning through the occasional window. But the man doesn't notice any of them, the only thing he sees is the road in front of him, and the only thing on his mind, is those four words. For the first time in his life, will something from his past have a permanent effect on his future. He hits the breaks hard, the car comes to a schreeching stop, right there in the middle of the road. A moment of clarity comes to him and he starts thinking, he begins to think about solutions. But not the normal kind of solution, not the kind that can actually solve a problem. He thinks about the kind of solutions, that exists only for the problems, that can no longer be solved. In that moment, right there in the middle of a lonely, dark road, he makes a decision. He turns the car around and drives back the way he came from. The same four words that haunted him moments before, are still in his head, but they have a different tune to them now, they carry a different weight. They used to be bargaining and consolidation, but they've been turned into words of fact and justification.

Once I was a child, Christmas was so much fun and joy

a cozy livingroom filled with warm colors and the smell of pine

underneath that big green tree, wrapped in paper was a toy

I couldn't wait to open them, I wish all of them were mine

now that I am older, there are other things about Christmans for me to enjoy

the company, the food, the love, I hope it will all go fine

I don't know if i can write something that will make you happy, because I don't know you and I don't know what makes you happy. So instead I will tell you about something that made me, just a little bit, happy: This challenge. I'm glad and I'm happy you made this Challenge, because it shines just a little bit of light on the darkness, that fills my life right now. I want you to be happy, can't make you happy, so instead I'm just saying thank you.

Time is best described as being sand

no matter how hard you try, you can never fit it all in your hand

grains slips through your fingers, all the opportunities you've missed

that time you should've traveled, that time you wanted to be kissed

you try to hold on tighter, even more grain hits the ground

panic grasps a hold on you, you need help you need to be found