The thing is every day that passes the more people die or get extremely ill, the more people I know whose lives are affected and sometimes destroyed. I keep finding new backdrops to punch through. I thought I was as deep in the anxiety pool as I could go, but another false bottom shows me otherwise. "What's WRONG with me?" I bemoan, freelancing from inside the one bedroom apartment in a lockdown last friend I saw was two months ago, last family 9. It's like this diary I read of a woman who was kidnapped and lived with her abuser for years before she escaped. "I should be happy" she wrote. NOT TO EQUATE MY LIFE WITH HERS. Obvi. Good gravy. I'm essentially in a palace of privilege writing from the kitchen table, palm trees waving out the window.
So the thing is these days keep passing and I have insane thoughts at times, "like is this the last year of society as we know it?" Then I'm like, "Haha, no everything will be normal one day" and then I'm like "Hm climate change though." So, essentially, there's more YOLO inside of me than ever before. But also I am still inside following all the rules. The very crisis that's making me believe life is short and meant to be lived is keeping me from living my dumb life!
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