My life seems incompatible with itself. I can't seem to let anything settle down inside of me lately. The anxiety feels like electricity in the air. My mind crackles with it. I jump at anything. I jump at nothing.
You can only live in impending doom for so long, eventually you'll want the doom to bring it on.
That's where I am now.
Beckett might disagree: That's what you think.
Currently listening to Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique, hoping for the best there is in madness and despair.
What gloom remains in fear.