I want to run. I want to run so badly but I keep meeting roadblocks of things I can’t do and things I haven’t finished. I’m surrounded by my own failures and they make me want to pull out my hair. I’m having an anxiety attack I have nowhere to go and I’m trapped and caving in and I want some magical wizard to come in and fix everything and make it all better in three wishes or less, but there are no magical wizards and the world is not a wish granting factory. There are library books I want to read on a messy floor I want to clean, but I can’t because when I wake up I feel more tired than when I fell asleep. And I want God to be there like He always is but when I reach for Him and I feel like I’m walking backwards. All I can do is listen to 21 pilots and cry like the pathetic loser.