"It" constantly gets to me. By "it" I mean everything. This eternal and non-stopping circle of stuff that doesn't take breaks from happening. Sometimes I need my breaks but when I take them, "it" rushes past me and I can't help feeling left behind.
Weird, huh? How some people manage life with such inspiring and graceful ease, and here I am, suffocated by all the happenings and passings and stressing out by the thought of not ever being able to catch up.
My therapist says I've got a lot on my plate and that my constant worries are understandable and even "natural" but others seem to be in an all-you-can-eat buffet of "it" and plating up spoonful after spoonful of that sticky and gooey mix of "it" and enjoying it like it was a delicious piece of cake while I drown on my quarter cup of "it".
And of course, my mother -oh, sweet mother- obviously nagged me for being dramatic and emphasized how I've got it so much better than African kids... and this made my feeling worse, because on the side of my suffocation and panic about the future, I also get to feel ungrateful and selfish... Ahh, how refreshing!
So life's been good, anxiety has been better and my will to live is out the window (heh). Anyway... Some poetry has been written. I'll share soon.
-L.
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