There are times I wondered why, I act just the way I do. Other times, I wished I knew exactly why I had  allowed my foolery thrived even beyond reasonable heights. Why do I act exactly like I do. Why do I impulsively seek refuge in the same unheard voices that have kept shouting loudly in utmost silence. Why have I continually enriched her with fame, and perhaps,  have always made her god. I hate to admit, but I naturally do not only take counsels from what I think resides in my subconscious, but overtly and most inadvertently, express them. I live a life I do not want, but most interestingly cant possibly change. Not because I would not love to, but because I fear to fail, hence my endless bouts of tries, had made me nurse enough heartbreaks each time It comes out like It most likely would - futile. Why then do I act like I do. Why do I keep wishing I were someone else?. Why do I feel I live a borrowed life,  why have I failed to isolate "Me". For Endle...