Fuck expectations, man. Don’t expect me to fucking be happy, don’t expect me to fucking look forward to things, don’t expect me to fucking be motivated, and don’t expect me to want to live. You criticize me and wonder why I am the way I am, but you also choose not to understand why I am who I fucking am and how it got to be this way. And if I want to go as far away as possible, don’t fucking worry about me. I am my own fucking burden, don’t try to be there when it is too fucking late.