I have shallow unrealistic dreams

Because suddenly, it's like he's twelve again, and after something strikes him as funny, he shares it with people. Which makes them mock him, and he gets unhappy again. Since of course he has no real constructive way of dealing with this, he responds by mocking them in some fairly obtuse sort of way, which results in less pleasant abuse then before. Which he of course takes with a smile like it's funny but in reality it makes him widely frustrated since he has no real constructive way to deal with this. He therefore leaves, and proceeds to bury himself in himself for several hours until it's time to go to bed. He of course gets irritated at the people that try to reach him, because all they ever want is for him to do something for them, and it's like no one ever appreciates the significance of the fact that he just develops this victim complex and then they're just feeding it.

Because he's not sure about anything any more. Because he just wants to be normal for a while. Because he wishes he could get his head screwed on straight. Because he knows he can't just retreat again, but the way he wants to fix it doesn't seem right. Because all of this is like being twelve again.

Because he doesn't care any more and writes things like this on his blog.

Because now that he knows who he needs, he needs Them more than ever. Because he makes excuses for why he pushes away. Because he wants to go Home.