My choices are not mine.

My doubts are the same, even after so much work.

I feel insecure, even after all the achievements.

I feel sad, even though I am surrounded by love.

Why aren’t my choices mine?

Why don’t i feel what it’s supposed to be felt?

Why people ask me questions, and then they answer themselves?

Why am I responsible only for shit, not for anything positive?

Why are we left to choose only between bad and worse?

And when this is not the case, our choices end up to be about menial, unimportant, material bullsit – Prada or Versace, iPhone or Samsung, paper or plastic, McDonalds or KFC. It’s a fake choice, none of those options matter.

Why is my opinion always applauded, but never taken into consideration?

Why are some people so eager to change it, even when it doesn’t hurt anybody in this world…

What the fuck is socially acceptable, again…and what is not?

I feel defeated. Stuck. I feel like a stubborn kid that won’t let go of the toy.

I wish it was a simpler time. Without touchscreens, bitcoins and Tinder. With more books and less worries. With less protests and more quiet. Less progress, more intrinsic motivation. Less distractions, more focused work. Less equality, more meritocracy.


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