Doesn't matter since I'm talking to myself here. I didn't realize what was blocking me from becoming famous was Harvey Weinstein's underwear. Apparently his private parts have magical properties and gazing on them can make a person outshine the sun. No wonder everyone wanted that to be kept secret.
Back to my real world where I'm an insignificant worker at a job that is equally insignificant. Writing my insignificant thoughts in world that operates on a game board I don't understand. However I can see the players, I see the pieces. I'm watching the game being played but it's a prerecorded video. I can only see what has already happened.
The level of frustration is excruciating. I retreat to my imagination where I find equivalent frustration. The reminders of unused ideas. Unresolved injustices. My real world is no escape from the reminders. Constant reminders. I think I 've payed my dues. Nope, I get to watch opportunity after opportunity vaporize like the illusions they are.
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