I was scared, scared of our adolescent love and where it would lead. I kissed my fear instead of her. The rumbling of the train drowns out my thoughts into reality. I’m on my way West Point, I’m on my way to New York, a lifelong dream of mine, something I’ve been awaiting for a while. West Point has always been somewhere in between delusion and prophesy and now…. Now I couldn’t be bothered, I find it now intimidating, daunting, it has a castle like structure and it feels uninviting. I want to write, I want my work to flood the minds of others and inspire. I no longer want war, I want no part of it. As I’m skimming through the newspaper at hand, I see an article on how some madman burnt the York Cathedral to the ground. Oh how I long to be the one to write that, a grand soliloquy written by me, Edgar Allan Poe, but somehow I put myself on this train. I’m not happy on this train, I’m not happy where this train is taking me, I’m not happy I’m alone, I’m not
I was scared, scared of our adolescent love and where it would lead. I kissed my fear instead of her. The rumbling of the train drowns out my thoughts into reality. I’m on my way West Point, I’m on my way to New York, a lifelong dream of mine, something I’ve been awaiting for a while. West Point has always been somewhere in between delusion and prophesy and now…. Now I couldn’t be bothered, I find it now intimidating, daunting, it has a castle like structure and it feels uninviting. I want to write, I want my work to flood the minds of others and inspire. I no longer want war, I want no part of it. As I’m skimming through the newspaper at hand, I see an article on how some madman burnt the York Cathedral to the ground. Oh how I long to be the one to write that, a grand soliloquy written by me, Edgar Allan Poe, but somehow I put myself on this train. I’m not happy on this train, I’m not happy where this train is taking me, I’m not happy I’m alone, I’m not