I don't have a dream job because I don't dream of working. I dream of having a partner and friends and going out to have fun. It'd be nice to get out my room or "my cage" as my mother calls it. I'm always in here... When I die the only memories that'll flash are me alone and high in this fucking room. I'm so miserable. Every time I try to escape I end up failing and falling even deeper into depression. It's not easy for me and I'm so fucking sick or people telling me what I can and can't do!! I CAN'T FUCKING WORK IT ISN'T EASY FOR ME!!! I'M NOT FUCKING LAZY I HAVE GENUINE MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES!!!

I hate this lifestyle so much. Why couldn't I have been normal? Normal people work. Normal people have partners. Normal people have friends. Normal people go places. Normal people are better than me. I deserve this for being such a whiny pathetic freak. So I'll stay in this shitty fucking room and talk to myself like a lunatic for the rest of my life. Oh wait... Actually for the rest of my mother's life cause she still takes care of me.

I'm crying but I don't know why. It doesn't help. Doesn't matter. I lost interest in continuing to vent. I don't feel anything anymore.