Panic. Fear. Worry. Dread.

I feel like I’m a giantly insignificant thing that’s like jelly, instead of being like water, or a proper being, and that I lean forward into the world, no, I lean down, my head is bowed. I feel like panic, fear and worry are all inside me, like the weights used to hold those bright adverts down over the railings of the overhead bridge, I feel there is something terribly wrong, something I missed out, something I can no longer express, something I can’t hold inside of me. Its like a bright streak of sour, stinging with chilli, through my jelly self, this fear and worry and panic. Like I’m doing something wrong. Wrong. Again. There’s something so wrong about my world again. Something frightening. Panic. Fear. Worry. No. When did I start caring again? I desperately need time. More than I have now.

I can’t seem to walk straight or upright anymore, my moral conscience bites me down, telling me I’m wrong, in the wrong. There are no safety nets from myself, not anymore. I am just being, nothing more.

I don’t like hearing their happy voices, I don’t like waiting for this, but I dread when it actually comes. I can feel them again, my old dead friends, Panic, Fear, Worry.

Dread.

How do people walk straight? How do they go through this without being bowed down almost completely. The harder pain is knowing that as the days go by, we are slowly moving into newer selves that don’t have us so much anymore. I can barely breathe. I am so-

Panic. Fear. Worry.

Dread.

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About theshadowsofthenight

An amateur writer and amateur artist :)
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