I used to dream of being an author, but not anymore.
I used to dream of moving to another country and experiencing their culture, but not any more.
I used to dream of spending my whole life with someone special, but half my life is gone and still I am alone.
I used to have hope, dreams, which many of us do, but now I just have my existence.
Now I just go to work, go home, occassionally do something “fun”.
It’s been one fucked up week.