It's never too late—in fiction or in life—to revise.
My hands are always cold and shaking with anticipation. I’ve got an addiction, but it's not serious. We’re all waiting for something. I never listen and can hardly focus. I wish I had the answer to everything, but I don't. I'm so simple but you'll never understand. I form my own opinions; I don't believe everything I’m told. I see the beauty in everything and everyone, but I also see the ugliness. There are so many people, yet I feel so alone. Even when everything is still, things are moving. I'm calm, but my heart is racing. I'm yelling at the top of my lungs, but no one can hear me. My feet are planted on the ground, but I’m high in the clouds. It's quiet, but it sounds like a million sirens are going off. I have a hundred thoughts, but never know what to say. I'm sitting at home, but I'm drowning in the ocean. There's no tomorrow, just today. Can we get away? Far away.
SuperCoolNothing Community Member 
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Community Member