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“If only there were more adequate men in the world… but alas, alas. Perhaps somewhere far away in another universe… on another planet… there were better men, beings of dignity and goodness. Or the angels in heaven – yes, I always imagined them as the ideal men, if there was any gender division at all among them. Perhaps they were simply asexual beings, pure in their existence, untouched by the vices of the flesh.”

“But you know… I’ve always believed in the good. I really tried. But I’ve always been so afraid of the worst. My anxious mind keeps playing terrifying scenarios over and over, like a broken record. And depression… since I was a teenager, it didn’t make me a better person. It didn’t strengthen me. It just made me hunted… like a sheep surrounded by wolves. And now, I feel like I’m about to be eaten alive.”

“I felt the truth like a shadow inside my bones, this tiredness had been with me since I was eleven. It never left. And the worst part was… No matter how many doctors I had visited, how many blood tests they ran, how many psychologists I cried to, they always shook their heads gently and said, Maybe you’re just tired from school… or work… or your singing classes.”

“Or maybe the dreamer was still alive only inside me, buried deep where I thought I had killed it long ago. But sometimes, its whispers still slipped through the cracks of my emotional dam – that dam I built so high to protect myself. I told myself I no longer needed anything in this world… but deep down, more than anything, I still wanted to love and to be loved. But… it wasn’t meant to be.”

“People slaving away at those jobs for a damn pittance, and still they were asked to do even more, always more, endlessly more. Many worked for five people’s worth of duties, and all they got in return was just enough money to pay rent and buy food to survive another month. I didn’t even dare imagine what it felt like for them to have dreams, desires, longings – when they could barely breathe under that weight.”