I wish I was smarter.
I wish I had been allowed to choose what I did a degree in so I did something I found fun. I wish I knew what I wanted to be so I could start being it or at least working towards it, but I don't.
I have no idea.
I'm lost and alone and I wish I had some guidance.
It's no wonder I have such a great mass of books in my closet, under my bed, lining my window sill, stacked on every shelf in my bedroom - I'm the kind of person who read stories, poetry, tales of adventures and great romantics, thrillers and mysteries with the occasional fantasy to make up for my miserable notion that those things won't be occurring in my lifetime. I'm not going on adventures. I'm not having great romances. I'm not involved in anything though god, I want to be.
I'm not meant for any of it, I don't fit into it all. I'm just here, making a blanket. Trying to make something. I'm trying to make something worthwhile. Trying to fill in my time.
I wish I wasn't such a moron.