I was being chased by a flood. What the hell right?
If I have a nice dream of playing by the coast, I’ll suddenly get chased by a huge waves.
If I have a nice dream of driving near the ocean, the sea level will suddenly rise high enough to take me down.
You know, I did struggle. A lot. I want to survive. I might not love my life but I have responsibility and debts. I have to live.
But at some point. I’ll just stop trying to live. I’ll go like: “what the hell, why would you want my life? Whatever. You want it? take it! I don’t care. Not like I really want to live anyway”.
And right before I crush my body, right before I really suffocate, right before I nearly lose my life, I’ll wake up just to realize it was all a nightmare. Then I’ll let out a long sigh while complaining. “Man, what the hell? So when I want to live you keep on trying to kill me, but when I want to die you wake me up and tell me it was all an imagination?”. Why do I have such a troublemaker brain –‘