Difficulty making decisions. Difficulty writing. The future seems grim, though I know it isn’t. No one can make my problems go away. Meditation will help. Breathing. Life, I am separated from life. I envision a future where I can simply do the tasks required of me without additional fear. I question all my decisions. Maybe everything is fine. In reality, everything is fine, but the lens through which I view the world is skewed. Can I take the liberty to separate reality into two divisions? But if things don’t feel right for me, how can I say that there is an objective reality which is fine- is reality not whatever I specifically perceive? And since we all perceive differently, does reality exist at all? Is there an objective realness? The majority of people seem to live in a world that I don’t particularly inhabit, a world without copious amounts of dread behind every responsibility. Each word is a struggle in itself, the choosing. 

Everything is going to be fine. Is going to be found. 

About Undecided Pseudonym

A woman who remembers enjoying writing.
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