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The biggest frustration that I experience is that the idea of something is greater than the reality of it. Nothing ever lives up to my dreaming. I hate it. I hate imagining. Longing for the non-existent. It's utter foolishness. And a waste of energy. At this point, I cannot even harness this frustration into some sort of written expression. I get excited by the thought of things, or reminisce the past more fondly than it actually was. I hate my personality. It's all stupidity denying reality and logic living in a dream world. What use is it if I cannot express it? It is not productive and purposeless.