We run from our past, hide it, try to change it. There’s nothing we can do about it. Some embrace it. Me? I hide from it. Hide from the sorrows, the happiness, the thrills, the terror, and the fear.
Fear of being called into that room again. Fear of being taunted. The joy of my first roller coaster ride. Joy of living. Sorrows of losing loved ones and not being able to do anything about it. There’s nothing I can do to change my past.
No way I can change it. Therefore, I ask myself, “Why do I hide?” It’s as if I’m running from myself. Which… to a certain extent I am.
I’m running, running as fast as I can. But there’s no point to it. To my running. I need to be free! Free like a bird.