The Question

A life lived wrong
A life lived long
My life that came to an end
There were no pearly gates
Or hell cell mates
A question awaited me instead
On the day I died
They asked me where my passion lied
I thought and quietly said,
"It was within the torn out pages
The iron cages
And the loud thoughts within my head."

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I know it's been a while.
Bear with me.
I've been waiting for the right words to come but I've felt nothing, known nothing and therefore, had nothing to say.
Until now.                        
I long for change, constantly, and when it comes I never know what to do with it. Over and over again I get what I want, yet nothing is ever enough. It's as if I'm waiting for something to happen, something spectacular, something unrealistic. I've placed my hope in a dream I can't remember, and I wake up every morning thinking this world is hell.
Now I'm faced with another decision that could drastically change the next two, possibly more, years of my life. I don't know what to do, I don't know who to talk to, and worst of all, I don't think I care. I couldn't care less what happens and that scares me. I think I've let the indifference consume me and I think it's left me in a very dangerous place. I'm alright, but I'm always alright. I'm content, but I'm too content. Nothing excites me anymore and the only hope I have is in my dreams. I urgently need something to make me want to come back to reality.