I'm Tired

of explaining myself

of not knowing what the eff I'm doing on this project

of waiting for feedback

of not sitting still and constantly being on the go

of not having shit to do

of reading

of not being understood

of people perceptions

of (failing at) managing those perceptions

of not knowing how all this is going to work out

of not naturally playing by the rules

of not knowing what the effing rules are

of this stupid mood.

What is this sadness, this alien emotion?

It feels uncomfortable, out of place.

It started hovering sometime yesterday and today is balanced precariously in the middle of my chest.

Hopefully, it's gone tomorrow morning when I wake up. I'm not used to this anymore.

I think all that John Mayering over the past few days was a bad idea.