When, then?

I feel sick. Not the kind of sick because it's flu season, but heart sick--and not the kind of heart sick that has anything to do with boys or love... but my heart is hurting because I feel like what I truly desire to do with the rest of my life is so incredibly unattainable that I want to puke (I also don't know why puking affects my heart, but it does). Often times it's just this repetitive process in which you find yourself standing on a rug and someone pulls it out from under you and like an idiot you get up again and resume your previous position only to have the rug once again pulled... Rinse, repeat. What's the point, really. I'm just going to lay down and whoever is doing the pulling can call up Aladdin.

I'm so close. I'm so close, but never there. I think that's the most frustrating part. If I sucked/failed I would just accept that fact and move on, but that's not the case. They just never pick me at the last possible point in the process. So frustrating. Whenever I'm frustrated I either play Chopin or jazz because then I can bang on the keys with crazy fast arpeggios or sulk and develop a gloomy atmosphere respectively.

You know what else is frustrating? There was a dog abuse article in the news yesterday where some guy had hundreds of dogs locked up in tiny cages living in their own defecation and they all eventually starved to death because he neglected them. Then today there was a similar case that happened at an animal shelter. AN ANIMAL SHELTER, for crying out loud. I think it's the worst when it's about dogs. What have they done to deserve this? If it were a human on the other hand... honestly, some people...