I’ve realized so much this week. No matter what I do, I’ll always find a way to mess it up. It doesn’t matter if I actually liked it or not, it just has to be ruined. Whether it relationships or tasks. I’ve also realized this isn’t at all what I want. I had a dream where my life beautifully unfolded. Kind parents, attentive and caring. I woke up crying because in the dream they passed away, but I realized I was grieving something that never even existed. Those weren’t my parents, they were who I wish they were. No pressure for a career, no need for aiming for perfection. I want to be a police officer or an artist, but I won’t get that. I’m too clueless and dumb for one, and the other doesn’t pay enough to make a living off of. My dreams are all I have left, and maybe if I died it would all be easier to accept. I have a plan and objects for said plan, and I can’t wait to free myself of this cage of filthy hopes I’ve trapped myself in for so long.