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Reality < Expectations.
I had a dream that I was running away. My bag was packed and sat by the front door. I was writing a goodbye note, and before I left I took everything in one last time. But didn’t make it out. Instead a man in a dark hood held a gun directly at me, pointed at my head. He cocked his head and smiled, gingerly looking me up and down. My first plan was to call for help, shove past him. But I didn’t. I just copied him, smiling back like it was some joke! “Do it.” I told him, “End me!” He looked at me strangely, lowering his hand that held the gun. He looked at my packed bag, then carefully moved out of the way.
I woke up with an expectation, a motive. To die. This character, who I only know in my subconscious inspired me to die? I’m either fucked in the head or … Nah, I’m fucked in the head. But I’m hoping this man kills me in the end, cause I don’t think I can live anymore.
