pretty flower ugly roots

i do not foresee myself surviving this year. i feel myself slowly evolving into some sort of machine (as if everything around me isn't mechanical enough), this metamorphosis does have its perks though

i am constantly trying to channel my tremendous levels of stress into positive work attitudes- they are channeled to outputs of laziness and anger instead. i feel as if i am unable to even vent this raging sea of emotions

i feel like i am confined in an enclosed box, just big enough for my body, and given just a straw to breathe. i am still surviving but i'd rather just give up and die without the straw. no one cares about the stupid straw. let me sleep

i give up so easily