there's not much in this world that is more devastating than a dream that is killed just before it is about to be realised. this has just happened to me. it is something that i suppose most people would consider trivial in the general scheme of things. it was afterall, just a job. but to me it was more than that. it was a chance to finally be the me that i've always wanted to be, to prove that i am capable of things, that i can achieve something more than getting out of bed in the morning. it was a chance to make something of myself. to be more than mundane. i have spent the last couple of hours crying tears of mourning for the me that i will never be. none of this is helped by my depression of course. dreaming seems like a fool's game, something i'm not likely to want to partake in again for quite some time. it is no one's fault but it hurts like hell.
I am so tired of people telling other people how to do any and all of the things. What words you can say if you're over 30, what music to like, what movies are ok to admit you enjoy, how you should be using your phone, facebook, instagram, twitter, toothbrush, kitchen sink, how you should live your life, spend more time being in the moment, not be on antisocial social media, what you should and shouldn't feel good or bad about, how people should or shouldn't be parents, women, men, feminists, activist, human beings. It just goes on and on. Here's an idea. If you don't like the way I do things or the words I say you have two choices. If you genuinely like me then you can choose to put up with the things about me that don't mesh 100% with the way you live your life (as I do with many of the people I love when it's not a deal breaker like racism or violence) or you can remove me from your facebook, twitter, instagram, life. That's it. Those are your two o...
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