Since I’ve been born, all I get is judged. Everyone is watching me, waiting for me to fail. Watching and waiting for me to slip up mess up, swear curse cry, do something good enough for them to talk about me in the way they do. It’s all worse now, my mother has always cared what they thought, always cared about their opinions. Silently thought she neglects the fact. But she shows it in her own way. She pressures me, always telling me that I have to do well, that there isn’t a way in the world that I’m allowed not to do anything with my life. I have to be successful, that I don’t have a choice. Every day I’m told of the person that I have to be. That I’m being watched and that I have to be successful because if I’m not all they are going to do is talk, talk about how I failed, about how I messed up. That she would be disappointed in me for not driving through everything I never wanted.

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So I try, I try to do everything they’ve ever wanted me to do, I try to be perfect, but being imperfect at the same time. But it’s hard. And I’m not naturally smart, so I have to try harder than everybody else, I have to be put into classes with people ten times smarter than me, and somehow make the honor roll and succeed. Imagine all this, while there are these people, these human beings who are naturally blessed, blessed with good looks, smarts, popularity, and even better, their families are rich. Try competing with that. Try putting a smile on your face, trying to get past the fact that you’re giving 110%, and they’re giving 5%, and they’re still coming out above you. You try and try knowing that there is no way in hell that you are giving up, your life is a mess. So many deadlines, so little time. You have body image issues, anxiety, depression, your parents constantly telling you that your best isn’t good enough anymore. You need to be better, life is going to keep punching you in the face, it’s going to keep throwing everything you don’t need in your life, right at you. And there’s nothing you can do about it. It’s your choice to get up and get out of this hell hole. But you get tired. After all the blood sweat and tears, you get tired. Sometimes you’ve given all you can and you still lay there on the floor in a puddle of your own tears, you get tired. And all you want to do is sleep, and dream, about a better life, what it would be like to have it all, like everybody else. You dream happy, you’re satisfied with your life. Out there in the world, and you are the quaternary predator. You are on top because you are living past the road; this is after you made it through the hard times, only good now. You’re there with the best job, a great family, and only happy days ahead of you. You couldn’t be happier with what you’ve become, and you’re so glad you decided to keep driving, no matter how scary you knew it was going to be. But then you wake up, still young, still, a lot of roads left to go. So much time. There are so many mistakes you can still make. You know what you have to do, you know what you have to do to get where you want to be. But it’s just so much nicer dreaming about it already happening. That’s why you work hard every day and dream well every night.

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We’re all fighting our own wars, deep down everyone is fighting their own battle. You may not be able to tell, you may not be able to see it. But everyone is running from something, someone. You just can’t see it.