Many people think that failure is to work as a janitor or to live with their mother when they are 40. Or at 45, being alone without a husband and children surrounded by cats.

But that's not really how bad luck looks. Do you want me to tell you what failure really is?

It is not a day to live the way you want.

It's to work for the most prestigious job, but to hate it.

It is to marry the smartest, most promising and most beautiful, but not to love it in the slightest.

It's about counting calories every day to "wear" someone else's body.

It's a lifetime of dreaming about writing a novel, but being too afraid to continue what we started by writing at least the second chapter.

It is not out of passion, but out of a sense of duty.

It is to live with the most loving, understanding, kind and caring, but to dream about a neighbour.

It's when a child wants to play all the time and you just don't want anyone to touch you.

It is to dream about having a croissant for breakfast, flipping through a magazine, but instead shoving in a quick-cooked chemical porridge and getting behind the wheel.

It is to dream every day to change everything, but not to do anything about it.

This is what I call failure.

What about you?