Bad Day

In math we learn that if two unrelated things equal the same thing, then therefore the two unrelated become equal. So, you would think that if I am looking at my computer screen amidst one of the worst days in a long while and you are looking at your computer screen then my feelings would equal your feelings. But no. You don’t feel the ache behind my eyes that pulsates with every blink. You don’t feel the anxiety in my raw lips and quivering tongue. You don’t feel the confusion pump through your blood as a reminder that you are both alive and living a life completely pitiful.

But where do feelings end and your being begin? When does a bad day turn into a bad life? Because ultimately, breathes turn into lives, and this string in my hands has somehow entangled itself in my fingers and in my mind. And I don’t know what to do. What do I do? What do I do?

I trust. I trust that while I have an anchor tied on my feet, a whale will come and swallow me and I trust that a mixture of spit and sand will be rubbed on my eyes and I trust that I cannot be placed under a bowl. While it is hard, I trust because I am just dust.


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