I hate those sudden revelations.

Like in reality, you are who you want to be

usually without knowing it.

We all say, I want to be this person

I want to be like this

But we seldom mean it,

It's just a passing fantasy

An accumulation of well placed doubts

Of overnurtured fears, and childish desires

It is of course, human to want

It is also human to strive, to try

It is human, and that is what we write it off as.

We blame our own mortality

for the shortcomings and lack of our will

We are a lazy species, content to

Blame time, fate, destiny, all these

Manmade myths,

And we die knowing that we could've been

Should've been something else, but

Were not given time, lost sight of destiny

Were handed the wrong fate

All because we wanted to be

Without realizing that in wanting

We never took the time to notice

That we were.