Altitude sickness maybe.
I find it so hard to coexist. Most of the population can pull it off without thinking twice, and maybe I envy that, along with many other things. For me it is like running a marathon. It takes effort, and I get tired. I can't keep up. I can't. This race is on a track of ice and everyone has studded shoes except me.
I don't think I have what it takes.
But when I think in terms of being me, instead of terms of fitting in, the optimist in me comes out of an erratic series of comas, and I decide that this is worth it. And then my envy fades like breath on glass. My envy turns to pity, and my pity turns to scorn, and then I am disappointed in myself for regressing into an elitist (an elitist is backwards too, yes).
I bounce back and forth through periods of emotional discomfort in opposite poles. I visit each side of the spectrum in my stroll. The inertia catches up.
And then I am once again reminded and I revert back to the middle in a state of neutrality. None of this matters. The apathy floods relief into my friction-scorched psyche. I am the needle in the gauge returning to a state of rest.
Apathy is sometimes a necessary evil. Or is it apathy at all? And apathy is only evil to the right person, given the right situation.
Doubt creeps with the shadows. And then I stop thinking, because now I am powerless. I am running in circles. And logic becomes an infinite regress. I'll make it finite for now.
Finally, I cannot come to a conclusion because I don't even know what my own mind is trying to prove.
I'll close my eyes to sleep.
-The Piece
