Everything is a blur. I remember bits and pieces of black left behind from the last seven years of so.Am I sick? Ma says everyone gets sad, it’s nothing to worry about. I have a cold and she fusses over it,though everyone gets those too.I try to tell her how difficult it is getting to breathe and why but I am tired of seeing confusion and fear everywhere so I stop myself.

I’m where I wanted to be.And all I can think of is escape-only I run out of plans everyday.Part of me wants to run but I am tired in that most frustrating tired-out-from-nothing-way.And part of me wants to bury myself right here.

And I wonder if my life is always going to be a series of preparations to run away-always chased by an undefined something and pulled in by another imperceptible nothing?Am I always to trudge from one trampled down dream to another and never really be at peace with the moment?

Yet is making peace with the here and the now the death of all dreaming,the start of complete stagnation?All through school my life was propelled,it seems by the idea of a better future-college,English Honours and now I’m here and I’m tired and all I am doing is chasing new dreams to chase.Or,in failing to do so,striving to build new ones-not easy when your imagination folds in on itself.

Is all the beauty really in the journeying,and no destination as rosy as it seems on the map directing us there-just the idea of something better round the corner deluding us into thinking the effort to get there worth it?

I lie in bed with a clogged,unyielding mind and promise to pull myself together tomorrow,and I am beginning to feel absurdly withered,absurdly old for someone my age.Is there any such thing as deliverance,is there a way out,is there deliverance.



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