the days are slipping away. this is a signature sign of the spiral. i stop writing dates above to-do lists, avoid the protocol of nominal titles, and leave my calendar and reminders empty.

windows taunt me like a television screen in an open-design department store. the cost of such an immersive experience is impractical, but i leave the curtains open as a compromise. it’s not that i don’t want to move forward. i’m not moved to forward myself.

comfort is not a long-term solution. if i keep it from its role as a short-term provider of relief, an act i habitually perpetuate, i feel the angst of not knowing where one fits in.

fears of denial and indecisive judgement seep into my skin as i’m taken hostage by an eternal stretch of anxiety. self-defense, my best option, requires an enormous amount of acute stress. each time i restart this scenario, my tolerance grows.

i made it here, past four blocks of unknown composition. if confidence follows success, then why am i currently preoccupied with preserving momentum?

stop signs are planted at every intersection. within this landscape, how far can one really go? why do i fight the tax of a highway that could bypass my slow procession? my logic cannot reconcile with irrational behaviors, so they run unabated like terrorists envisioning a world they must first destroy.

– D K T


life ends. why pretend

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