I live in fantasy, for reality bites. This is unhealthy. For fantasy is causing me to sink into more depression. I want my fantasies to come true. I would love to be a gifted child like Rori in Gilmore Girls. I would love to have a voice like Finn Hudon in Glee. I would love it if someone told me that I mean a lot to them like Matt Saricen said to the coaches daughter on Friday Night Lights. I would love to have a group of friends like Friends the T.V. series. But reality comes and hits hard.
What is reality? I mean nothing to people; I can't sing; I have an IQ of 85, which means I am not gifted.
Here's other harsh realities: hell is real; I am gay, but don't physically live the lifestyle, however I want to, but the fear of hell stops me; I maybe still headed for destruction; God has the power to destroy me; I am mentally unstable; and many more.
Another harsh reality is that the pleasure in this world is disappearing and Christ is coming soon. Will he find still living in sin? I don't know.
All I am saying I hope things change.
What is reality? I mean nothing to people; I can't sing; I have an IQ of 85, which means I am not gifted.
Here's other harsh realities: hell is real; I am gay, but don't physically live the lifestyle, however I want to, but the fear of hell stops me; I maybe still headed for destruction; God has the power to destroy me; I am mentally unstable; and many more.
Another harsh reality is that the pleasure in this world is disappearing and Christ is coming soon. Will he find still living in sin? I don't know.
All I am saying I hope things change.
