Sometimes, i think the ability to dream of a bright future is punishment from a past life. If I could, i’d walk up to that gap-toothed blonde headed 10 year old kid, with starry eyes full of aspiration, and i’d kill him. He has caused me so much pain. I can’t let go of the unrealistic future the younger me so naively constructed, and I hate myself for it. It’s all his fault. If only he knew that the world would do everything in its power to crush those stupid dreams of his. Maybe if he knew it, he wouldn’t feel this way now. Maybe he would have given up on those dreams a long time ago, well before they could ever root themselves into his head. Maybe he’d be content with where he’s at. Kids like him don’t have parents starting college funds, they have nickels and dimes in pickle jars for christmas presents. Kids like that don’t move out west to the city, and become big time software developers, they over work themselves in the mill if they are lucky. I shouldn’t feel bad for myself and I am sorry. I just can’t shake those dreams of mine. I want them so badly, i feel so out of place. I hate the path i’ve constructed for myself. I hate this life i’ve made, i hate this name and the weight it bares. I hate not having an escape. I want to follow my passion, but it’s impossible. I don’t know if i’ll ever be happy with the life i have drug myself through. I wish i had what the other kids did. What’s the point in going forward if i know it won’t be fulfilling?