It's a feeling of small.
You begin to realise how life is bigger, so much bigger than you.
Like you're just one star in the night sky.
You shine, you fade, you die.
It wouldn't make a difference if you weren't there to begin with.
You will never truely understand what's out there.
But you know that.
And you know it's bigger.

It's a feeling of empty.
It's like for a moment, life has sucked you away from yourself, and pulled you far enough back to watch life go on.
Like you're not living life, but watching it through your eyes.
Strange, detached.
No opinions, no emotions, just watching, observing.
Life goes on, you know that
And you are empty.

It's a feeling of end, and of beginning,
Where you can no longer just watch, so you try to dream, but know your imagination falls short of every detail that could have been.
Like walking through a forest, only to find your trail suddently ends.
You may find your way to where you were supposed to.
You may not.
It may take you longer than it was supposed to.
It may not.
Bu you know it will never be exactly as it was supposed to be.
Is that a good thing?
You know deep inside
This is where it ends and where it begins.

It's a feeling of you and them.
One where you stop and say the world does not revolve around you;
One where you realise just how superficial you are.
Don't compair yourself to your friends or your family,
Or even the world around you.
This is what you could do better.
But do think about the world, acknowledge it.
Acknowledge everyone.
Know everyone.
Feel how they feel, see how they see, dream how they dream.
If you truely dream how they dream, you will help them dream.
It is of you and them, them and you, one.

This is a feeling of feeling.
You're not quite sure what this feeling is any more.
The more you think about it, the more thinking you have left to do.
Is it disappointment of life?
Things didn't go the way they were supposed to?
Is it self-disappointment, that you could be so shallow?
Is it hope, for dreams and love and tomorrow?
Is it sacrifice, for lost dreams and lost love and yesterday?
Is it awe, that the world could spin around, twist and turn so unexpectedly? That you don't even know one millionth of the wonderous events in the world? Of all of the gain and the loss, the love and the tear, the reality and the game that just don't exist to you?
Or that all of you doesn't exist to the world, and they'll never know this?
Is it the simple illusions of a sleep-deprived girl who has far too much to think about this late?
You don't know.
But you do know this feeling.