I can't quite put my finger on it.
It has something to do with realizing that my ideals don't seem to weather the realities of everyday life all that well. Worse, that I can't be less than what my dreams drive me towards. Also, I've realized that sometimes dreams can't die without twisting your shape. And I can't let them die, because my shape doesn't deserve to be twisted - but I can't seem to find a place for my visions in everyday routine.
Its something amorphous and sinister. But only in the fact that my eyes are seeing, for the first time, the facts.
I don't know what I'm dealing with.
So how do I overcome it?
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