Since a few days it feels, as you would put you under a glass Bell. The world turns in slow motion and small small thoughts, which begin play in the head, is tie lost to fizzle at the end. The skull as a playing field, in which the brain sloshing back and forth and feels plenty useless. You can see and experience, and come out of your mouth words that you yourself do not understand. Sometimes you feel like, you’re empty thought. Whenever sleep goes the mind from exhaustion.
Is the cold air that meanders to the other by an ear, or who knows these hypocritical inner voice, which merely yearns for attention. You stare at the wall and try to listen to you, but find no beginning and certainly no end. The meaning was lost somewhere between reality and Utopia, between doubt and confidence and you’re in the Middle, while the white wallpaper begins to crush you. Because everyday with existential blends, because questions waiting for answers and you will never understand why what you have is not enough. If you know what you want, you want it today and tomorrow it is you don’t care about and then you wake up and scream, because you realize what your step with feet. This is the insanity, it’s the devil on his shoulder, the crap in my head that always oozes out of your eyes when you get scared. Before the gap between change and finality. Both, at the same time. You’re the tightrope walker between stagnation and hedonism. Want both or nothing. You will experience so often, fill every day, sleep little, because too much happened. Then you sit and count sheep, are satisfied and happy in the miniature Cosmos of coziness. Never, everything is perfect. Something is always missing. Loud or quiet? Make up your mind not, as long as you don’t have to.
Are the ways that lead you to the mind. This job or another, perhaps even none. Apartment or WG, pizza or pasta, a man, not a man, this man. Never or always, now or never. There are these days, where everything is different than otherwise, which shake the old image, that drive you to question everything. There are evenings where you will experience new and perplexed zuruckbleibst, because you realize that there is more than just plan A. And whenever you’re on the way home, then it tingles in my stomach, it tweaks in the head and hurts in the chest. Because you know how it is but not how it will be,. Because you know what could be if it were not already otherwise. And at some point you know nothing. The Board in front of the forehead and the question mark in the brain are agreed. Today you can find no solution more. Not and tomorrow not today. Because each new attempt of thinking bang you with full force against the white wall, you turn yourself in the district. When you fall, if everything is numb, you understand: it will not stop. Never.
This is the life. Every decision a potential massacre, each Yes at the same time a no. We can do nothing except hold out and we drift into the spongy swamp of uncertainty. Every time you are stuck under the glass Bell, not to know and not return, if the head is not working and you drown solutions in Sambuca, then get yourself free. You have to decide you have to just live. The rest arises from alone.
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