Writing my heart out

Tell me where do you put your dreams and all your wishes when you find yourself defeated by the world?
Tell me how you sleep at night knowing that all those crappy sayings about “The impossible just takes a little bit more” laughs at you?
No one knows how much I want this. And even if it was just for a minute, they did not consider that every breath I take is measure by this.
Everytime I watch a movie, a tv show or I see some pictures about NYC my world falls into pieces but not before rubbing my hopes in my face.
I just think I don’t belong here. I really mean it. I feel like it's not worth it to even try it here. And it scares me to death to know that. There’s nothing in store for me here.
I can’t even start to tell you how much it hurts to fill yourself with excitement, illusions, hopes, happiness, joy and freedom and realizing you have to throw all that shit through the garbage.
I can’t stay here anymore, and I don’t want to sound a foolish-naive-innocent poetic girl that lives on movies, typical stories and unreal developments of lives as you see on screen, all I want to say is that I don’t feel I belong here, and what do you have to do when the place you live in it doesn’t feel right at all? It hurts, everybody seems so comfortable with their own skins, doing what they do, following their schedules and I can’t even go a day without feeling I have to get out of here. I’ll always be unhappy if I’m not where I want to be, because your home is not where you were born, your home is where you feel like it.