u/Expert-Piccolo-4379

I'm not exactly sure how to describe it but it's like living in a crowded elevator. I feel unable to speak but I do have a strong voice. I feel unable to look at people but I'm deeply curious about their lives. I sometimes hate being seen because it reminds me I'm actually here standing next to you. Same as it ever was, a line from a Talking heads song sticks out in my mind.

I didn't do much today besides studying for an upcoming Calculus 1 class in college. I'm afraid I'll fail because I was never good at math. I spent months reteaching myself everything from basic fractions up till High school math. I hated feeling like I couldn't do something as essential as math. I'm back in school for that reason alone studying mathematics. It was really the hardest thing I could think of. I sometimes feel guilty whenever I hear stories about children of immigrants who talk about their parents as motivation for doing what they do. I can't say I do this for my parents I do this for only for myself. I want this to matter because I truly feel like a failure that can't do anything right sometimes. Not sure where I'm going with any of this. I hate people when they're not polite!!!

For context, I wrote the following in my personal diary and felt like posting it here. I doubt this'll make sense to anyone but here goes:

I am in thought and in shock for a thought that was tinier than any I’ve had in a while. I didn’t see it coming and I was afraid I’d lose it in writing here. I was afraid that I would find nothing after mining myself for a meaning I’m unawares of. I was afraid of dreaming. Yes, that’s the one, a dream. A dream that is just for myself. A dream that exists in a vacuum in my mind. Whether it’s real in the sense of a pencil is now impossible to know. There are dreams and like gravity they weigh on me. I love to dream… is what I want to say but I was asked the question recently and came out with a blank. I talked about losing weight. I’ve talked about going places around LA cooler than any I’ve been in. I’ve talked about getting a job. I’ve even talked about getting a girlfriend for the first time and now here. Now here I’m left speechless by a simple inquiry into my dream. I’ve made it to the precipice of the real questions, the ones that might feed my soul and I’m left afraid. If I answer now will it ring hollow? I’m not a kid anymore and time isn’t doing what it used to do. I am forced to answer a question prematurely, or too premature to handle the conclusion.

I’m want to run away to talk about something different. Maybe there’s nothing different in anything I’d want to write but goddamnit I want to talk about this. I am afraid of dreaming. I’m afraid of the work that goes into that dream, into making it reality, into making it known. I’ve lived a half-life. I’ve lived on my knees to someone else's dream. I’ve said I want the best for my family, I’ve said I want to make money, I’ve said I want everyone to be happy. I’ve said these things because I thought that’s what I was supposed to say. I thought that it would make me happy. I’ve become mute, I’ve lost my voice because I was too afraid to use it. What is my dream? What do I want to do? What work do I want to put into making that a reality?

My dream is to make lots of friends and to make it so no one has to feel lonely like me ever again. I’d like to write to make some money so that I could fund something to make it so. My dream is to make it so I never have to be lonely again. It’s too simple, to naked to ever be said to someone. I’ve known that’s my dream for years. I hate suffering; I hate it when I see it in myself, and when others are mirrors. I hate seeing people hurt others in ways more unknown to them, and I hate seeing myself quiet because I can’t handle conflict. I need to get money, I need to build social skills, I need to be brave right now. I need to show love right now.