Fly high little one, there was only one Icarus and he died...

I am just insanely annoyed at everything around me these days. Can't find any peace of mind. Weird feeling of cement solidifying in my brain. I feel my steps being interrupted unconsciously. Mumbling constantly to myself in moments of discontent. It is so hard to trip and pick myself back up. I abbhor myself for not being able to either. What the fuck, pick up, stand up, walk again. Can't be that fucking hard. That searing voice yelling in my temples: " Stop staying glued to the ground, you loser. Why can't you just inject a good dose of enthusiasm into your veins like everyone around you can? God, just fucking stop cleaning your own face with self-pity saliva " Leading the life of an observer. What I want of myself and what I do with myself are such polar opposite that it's become a tragedy turned into a bad comedy. I might as well be the token vegan called Ivan Bacon, or the chunky kid wearing PHAT tshirts making you question the spelling of it all. BOoo... ha, back to bed...one of those days you wish you choked in your sleep.