Friday, October 4, 2013

The Self (part 30025)

Something radical has been happening. It's molding me and it's making me a bit anxious, more so than usual. It's making me spit with rage. It's making me more quiet than usual. I already survived some of the foray. I want to write but it it's all coming to fast. I wake up and heaviness presses against me. nothing new, really. How come I can't seem to function in the normal everyday life, of paying bills, working, getting stuff done throughout the day.

What's wrong with me? Nothing. Nothing. The madness of this world becomes difficult to handle everyday. I can't ignore the poverty the injustice. yet, I'm not helpess. I know that.


I feel as heavy, but not the suffocating kind anymore. It's bearable. Things have changed. I've let go. of people and memory. Nostalgia. 

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