N
Neuron.exe
New Member
- Jun 15, 2024
- 2
I had a dream the other night that took me back to high school—eight years ago. I was at some kind of party or get-together, maybe skating, surrounded by old classmates I had long since forgotten. Even the cute guys I used to have low-key crushes on were there, the ones I could never pursue because of how I looked.
But in the dream, things were different. I was charming, likable—attractive, even. I could sing, and people actually cared. It felt good. It felt like a version of life I never got to live.
And then I woke up.
That's why I hate dreaming. My mind gives me these fleeting moments of happiness, only to rip them away. It dangles hope in front of me—a glimpse of a life where I am enough—only to remind me that it's never going to happen. It's like my subconscious wants me to taste a world I can never have, just to make waking up even worse.
I'll never get to be that person. I'll never be the center of attention, never impress the cute guy enough for him to want me. I was born wrong—unlucky. Born Black, predisposed to mental illness, with no money and no real chance. Always desperate for validation, always set up to fail.
I've had dreams where I was happy—hell, I've even tried lucid dreaming—but in the end, I always have to wake up. And when I do, the reality is still the same.
I wish I could go back to high school. But as someone else. Someone white, someone skinny, someone loved.
Or maybe I just wish I had never been born at all.
But in the dream, things were different. I was charming, likable—attractive, even. I could sing, and people actually cared. It felt good. It felt like a version of life I never got to live.
And then I woke up.
That's why I hate dreaming. My mind gives me these fleeting moments of happiness, only to rip them away. It dangles hope in front of me—a glimpse of a life where I am enough—only to remind me that it's never going to happen. It's like my subconscious wants me to taste a world I can never have, just to make waking up even worse.
I'll never get to be that person. I'll never be the center of attention, never impress the cute guy enough for him to want me. I was born wrong—unlucky. Born Black, predisposed to mental illness, with no money and no real chance. Always desperate for validation, always set up to fail.
I've had dreams where I was happy—hell, I've even tried lucid dreaming—but in the end, I always have to wake up. And when I do, the reality is still the same.
I wish I could go back to high school. But as someone else. Someone white, someone skinny, someone loved.
Or maybe I just wish I had never been born at all.