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...tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther... (The Great Gatsby)
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Twenty-six year old and disturbingly confused. That's what I am. When people reach their quarter-life you would think that they have finally found their purposes in life. They would know where to go, what to do or not to do and when.
That's why it feels so pitiful for I still have no clue on how to translate my dreams for the future. In fact, it's slowly forgotten. Eroded bit by bit until there is nothing that remains.
O life, have a little mercy on us.
O life, have a little mercy on us.
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