Inner Turmoil
I may be mad. But then, we must all be.
Sometimes I look in the mirror and just say to myself, "Damn it, I look weird."
Or I will think about how tenuous any and all of the social ties I've built are.
I will think about how vague and focusless I am. How inexperienced with life.
Thoughts may stray to how I don't know what I'm doing. With anything.
There is encroaching panic with every change. The time leading up to change is filled with teeth-gritting tenseness that I am not doing what I need to be doing. Or how I just don't want to do what needs doing.
Left to my own devices, could I actually accomplish anything worthy of recognition?
Left to my own devices, could I actually survive?
There are times, the quiet times, in the lazy afternoon, in the wee hours between tonight and tomorrow, in the pauses at lights, when the only thing to do is close my eyes, take a breath and hold it, and wait for that aching second to pass. And maybe the next as well. As many as there are, until life can go on.
No doubt, I am not the only one to feel such things. But that doesn't matter. It is a personal, private panic, that cannot be dealt with with the aid or support of others. This is an abyss that must be stared into until someone blinks.
Sometimes I look in the mirror and just say to myself, "Damn it, I look weird."
Or I will think about how tenuous any and all of the social ties I've built are.
I will think about how vague and focusless I am. How inexperienced with life.
Thoughts may stray to how I don't know what I'm doing. With anything.
There is encroaching panic with every change. The time leading up to change is filled with teeth-gritting tenseness that I am not doing what I need to be doing. Or how I just don't want to do what needs doing.
Left to my own devices, could I actually accomplish anything worthy of recognition?
Left to my own devices, could I actually survive?
There are times, the quiet times, in the lazy afternoon, in the wee hours between tonight and tomorrow, in the pauses at lights, when the only thing to do is close my eyes, take a breath and hold it, and wait for that aching second to pass. And maybe the next as well. As many as there are, until life can go on.
No doubt, I am not the only one to feel such things. But that doesn't matter. It is a personal, private panic, that cannot be dealt with with the aid or support of others. This is an abyss that must be stared into until someone blinks.