one, maybe two
Yesterday used to be a good day, but just as it was ending it proved to be one of the most annoying days of my life. It was on that day that I felt stupid, weak, utterly confused and dependent on something other than my own strength. All the things that I have been fearing have come true on that day, maybe even during one or two hours of the day, not its entire length, which makes the whole thing seem so unimportant and yet of an enormous magnitude.
I haven't slept and can't sleep, I don't want to go to work (which is in 3 hours) , but I have a meeting and I am expected to show up. The only solace is that I can attend the meeting and then go back home, which is exactly what I intend to do. The problem is that it's one of those meetings where people ask questions and you're supposed to give answers and I am not really sure of how capable I am of that.
Lately, I find myself incapable of answering questions, in fact most of my answers are incoherent and weakly based. It's as if my whole existence is a big fat lie that keeps on spinning out of control; the more I live, the more drifting I become. The more I breathe, the more incapable of breathing I become and the more I think, the more I discover that maybe I am that stupid.
I can't let one day question all of the things that I have been building up in my life, I can't let a couple of hours in a day, reveal how the pattern of my life isn't making sense and how things are far from alright.
I was OK, in fact I was fine living the way I am living, but now I am not so sure and all I want to do is run and hide.
I haven't slept and can't sleep, I don't want to go to work (which is in 3 hours) , but I have a meeting and I am expected to show up. The only solace is that I can attend the meeting and then go back home, which is exactly what I intend to do. The problem is that it's one of those meetings where people ask questions and you're supposed to give answers and I am not really sure of how capable I am of that.
Lately, I find myself incapable of answering questions, in fact most of my answers are incoherent and weakly based. It's as if my whole existence is a big fat lie that keeps on spinning out of control; the more I live, the more drifting I become. The more I breathe, the more incapable of breathing I become and the more I think, the more I discover that maybe I am that stupid.
I can't let one day question all of the things that I have been building up in my life, I can't let a couple of hours in a day, reveal how the pattern of my life isn't making sense and how things are far from alright.
I was OK, in fact I was fine living the way I am living, but now I am not so sure and all I want to do is run and hide.
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