I suck at drawing so you'll have to use your imagination. Imagine somebody on a toilet. They've got violent diarrhoea and the paper roll has slid onto the floor, just out of reach. The toilet paper represents your dreams, the shit coming out of your ass represents reality and the toilet represents your responsibilities. Are you following me? Good. Try as you might you can't reach the paper roll. Suddenly, you make a go for it, hoping that the shit doesn't come out of your ass before you get back. It does. Shit goes everywhere. It goes all over the floor, which represents the path to your dreams, it goes all over the walls, which represents both your security, it goes all over the door, which represents your dignity and reputation, and it even goes all over the ceiling, which represents the age of your death, due to your industrial pump of an ass. It goes everywhere, except the toilet. As you lie flat on your face on the floor, quietly sobbing and covered in shit, you ponder what could've been. All the while pieces of shit keep flying with every fart you make, and they are frequent. You don't even have the energy to hope that somebody doesn't open the toilet door before you have a chance to fuck off. Do you understand? Does it finally make sense?