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What have I got to do? Seems infinite. They expect a lot from me. I am suppose to get rich, make things, be famous, be somebody, go places, see things, be successful. So much to do. I didn't ask to be born. Why should I be responsible for it? I can't. It is not ideal, not the way I would have it. Why should I contribute to it? I can't do that. I am a dependent. It's who you know. Why would I want to do those things? What to do? Got a life - what to do with it? Things don't come easy. I am not lucky. I have to make everything. Nothing comes easy to me. I have never won anything in my life. I have never met the magic moment. All these expectations, a lot of pressure and negativity. I can't do all this, I can't - I can't.
All the people I loved left me - poof gone in a flash. They were my ticket to everything. But I turned it all down anyway. If one accepts any kind of
end, this is all I want for the rest of my days, then you are locked into a consciousness, and rationales to maintain it. Keep growing was my motto, since the days of analysis. Accept an identity and you are dead. Guess I realized that in the first year. You think this is it. A year later, you find you went way passed that already, but you would be locked in. That was not it. That is never it. Push, push, push. What I am doing? Can't write. Can't paint. Can't draw. Can't sculpt. Can't have Anka. How do you choose one thing when so many things? I would just let her tell me what to do. Right.
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