when I see myself in the mirror
am I seeing myself?
existential dread fills my brain
to the brim.
It's overwhelming.
I am going to die.
It will never get better.
What did I do to deserve this?
I didn't ask for this,
never asked to be born
into a world full
of questions and distractions.
Why am I here?
How am I here?
Why does everything seem so
important
when nothing is?
Why do the ideas of
art and love and life
appeal so many
when we all come to the same tragic
end?
Nov 26, 2017
Nov 26, 2017 at 8:02 AM UTC
when I see myself in the mirror
am I seeing myself?
existential dread fills my brain
to the brim.
It's overwhelming.
I am going to die.
It will never get better.
What did I do to deserve this?
I didn't ask for this,
never asked to be born
into a world full
of questions and distractions.
Why am I here?
How am I here?
Why does everything seem so
important
when nothing is?
Why do the ideas of
art and love and life
appeal so many
when we all come to the same tragic
end?
