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Anhedonia. Anxiety. Anti-life. 

A doctor would be quick to label you a depressive. Your mother would tell you to stop thinking so much. Your friends might not understand. You might not understand. 

Theres something about this way of thinking that makes it ultimately more real than any other way of thinking. Its this depressive realism, this ability in being able to see how we have constantly been unable to match our expectations throughout the course of our lives in so many ways. And its so real because you know you aren’t lying to yourself, nor are you cheating anyone else. You are just experiencing the harshness of reality. 

I guess the sad fact is that we can never get over this way of thinking. We can try to run away from it by hobbying ourselves in other things: dating, drinking, drugs, discussions. But the truth of your past is always there.

I figure its this truth about our past which makes life worth living: that we want to make up for our past blunders, that we can outdo our past selves in a way that will always leave us remembered in a positive light.

Sometimes I just want to be 7 years old again. 

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