i have this troubling tendency, to push for perfect. i see things how they could be, dressed in the optimistic light, and gleaming with potential as opposed to how they really are... i know there is no harm in hoping, but perhaps i am setting the bar too high and too soon for other people?
most of my childhood was spent in the uncharted territories of my imagination, a limitless world of possibilities, where anything i wanted i had, despite the tragic realities that surrounded me. instead of brokenness and pain, i saw a world of beauty.
now, at age 26, i still can't help but wear the same rose colored glasses.
Polaroid Sx70. Expired Time Zero.
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