I want to be a singer

It feels good to hear myself

But birds did not share even a “tweet” of voice

I want to be a dancer

I love to see myself grooving

But motion is against my passion

I want to be a director

I like to put my  imaginations into reality rolling on

But dark chocolates taste a few nightmares

But I think life is just the way it is

It flicks, and only mystery can give a magical view of what life is

But what does I really love to do?

I love to be a writer

I want to write even a little none sense of my thoughts

Pure thoughts can reveal a little puzzle of life.

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