simply journal

I just realized my ideal job is actually a writer. Even though I am not great at it, I love writing – short or long stories, screen plays, poems and such. I like to let my thoughts run free through words.

Then I also realized that I really want to isolate myself from this world and being a writer would be perfect. I can’t cope with this world. I get anxious with crowds… and people in general. I have to put on a face most of the time. I can never find peace and space…

I lack passion for my own life, yet, I have a soul with an whole other world in it.

And in this world, there are just too few people that I truly care and love. And there are even fewer that love me.

No one really cares about what I think. People only think about what I do.

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