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I finally figured out my family. They're like rulers of this world where everything is backward. Maybe even fantasy. Nothing might be real to them, but to me, everything was very real. Well, it used to be very real. I had a complete idea of who I was and where I lived and where I wanted to live. I had relationships that made sense and everything was together. I had hyperactive speech and a big amount of paranoia, but I lived in a crystalline place. Then everything fell apart slowly. It's even more difficult when things fall apart slowly, because it's sad. It's sad to know what's going to happen, and to look back at all your work and realized it was for naught. It's sad to slowly condition yourself to lose. And to crash from emotional highs to devastating lows.

I wanted to make a world for myself, and in that, I was just like my family. I come from a small family, where individuals have their own personal motivations, and it doesn't rock the boat too much to pursue each other's dreams. But for them, their dream was me. And I had other plans. I had to go to the city. I had to live an urban life. I had to seek thrills and experience freedom, but for all my motivation, nothing ever worked. I was financially limited by them. I was put into a mental health program that was meant to be my entire life. They wanted me to be known as a weirdo, because, to them, I think I was a source of shame. I tried very hard to prove to them I was okay, and by doing so created a vast trail of creativity and efforts to break free from this system. But I failed, and when I finally accepted my failure, it all made sense.

There was no way for me to do what I wanted to do. It was an impossible, grandiose plan. I couldn't possible hope to achieve this status I wanted with my standing in the world, not to mention my issues. I wanted something more than I could ever realistically accomplish. But there was a hidden reality underneath the surface of my life that I could not see. I knew it was there, and I wondered how I could find it. I worried I was being influenced by forces that I could not see, and I tried to control them. Inside my deluded mind, I could actually create this reality I wanted. But life is hard. I've learned that. It's never easy.

I tried agreeing with them. I tried working together. I was too nice, and I couldn't hold my smile for long enough for us to get along. They really had an issue with me, but only on the surface. Deeply, they cared for me. They wanted my dreams to come true. But we live in that harsh reality where nothing is easy, and I couldn't survive that way. It is after all the goal of a family to lived a prolonged life. It is the very definition of family to succeed.

By accepting my powerlessness, I was okay with accepting my grandparent's plan. It was simply to move to a different location in my current town. I was excited, thinking I would get to own the house, but of course I'm still renting. And of course I won't be able to go to the city from this place.

But it's a beautiful house, and I will live a beautiful life there.

All because I'm finally moving.