All I wanted was to write this book. I want to help others, but the more I chase it, the more things get in the way or put me down. I share pieces of it for feedback, only to have incoherent disgust thrown at me. I can’t work a job long before I have to quit because I don’t have the energy to work in two places at once. I disappoint my family every second I do this stupid shit, and now all I’m left with is this passion that is slowly dimming out with the impossible odds. I know that without fulfilling that, I’m already dead. Everything is closing down into one option, the option that I’m trying to fight so hard to show others another way. It’s so ironic and pathetic. Narcissistic, even. Who am I to speak above people and tell them how to get through such a thing? For something I know myself, how do I manage to be that ignorant? What reason am I even breathing for anymore? I’m slowly forgetting the answer to that.
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If everyone was an only child with two committed and mindful parents everyone would have the potential to achieve so much more in their lives. There are a lot of talented people who give up along the way at different stages for different reasons.
I’m intrigued. I’d like to read it. My email is sectoralindices@gmail.com if you feel up to sharing.
About the future seeming bleaker by the day, it’s not true. The past seems more surmountable than it ever did in the future. Bad times pass.