My imagination depresses me. It shows me so much possibility in the world, but when I open my eyes and take a look around, I’m often completely unsatisfied with what I see. On the inside are my goals and dreams, on the outside are the actual tools to accomplish and realize those goal and dreams. Unfortunately, just because the tools are there doesn’t mean that they will be willing to come to my assistance. I always seem to dream one step beyond what i can actually find in the world, hence the depression. This depression always accompanies the resentment because “this is all I can get?!?!? the best I can do?” I just want to step into the world and pick up all the pieces that so nicely fit together to form my life puzzle. This often takes more work, more money, and more energy than I forecast and often leaves me with extra parts and relationships that serve no other purpose but to annoy me. I think I could cope better with more work, more expenses, and more energy being expelled if the “good enough” clingers didn’t drain me dry in the process. It is sad that some people think that love and friendship is in the air when all I did was say hi and have a conversation. I’m sick of being taken advantage of because I enjoy being nice to people. A smile, a glance, and a few conversations mean nothing; nothing other than the fact that you’re speaking with a girl who took etiquette classes in junior high. If all it takes for you to think you like someone is their manners, then I suggest therapy, because you don’t know what love is and you’ll keep getting in people’s way in the process.