171 why does it always rain on me
I stuck my head out beyond the railing and felt a drizzle, and by the time I was walking out of the lift landing into the open the skies had opened up into a steady rain. I peeled my clothes off and ran and dived straight into the pool, and before I knew it I was thrashing the water. I swam and swam, stroke after hard stroke, feeling the water pooling at the bottom of my goggles and choking my ear canals. I swam and swam, until my arms were saturated, and I got up to take a breath. And then my goggles snapped. So I swum the next few laps with naked eyes, staring at the pool floor in front of me, blur and murky as my head. The pool floor doesn't make sense. Nothing in my head makes sense. With naked eyes, staring right through my mind, at everything I've ever been through, staring, at my insecurities, staring at my inadequacies, staring at everything which makes me who and what I am, and at everything which makes me who and what I am not. At everything about myself. At everything I resent about myself. And I realise that these two sets are almost equivalent.
I don't know. I don't know how/where to go from here.