strong winds of anxiety threw me into a torrent of emotion, a verbal display of being outwardly vicious. a mix of guilty pleasures, simple realizations. where was i leading myself? into something i wanted? stuttered and stammered then went defcon 4 to self destruct. these are the most terrible of times, where questions arise from the thick mucus of doubt. lodged uncomfortably in my throat. each swallow a painful reminder that im ingesting a sickness. self inflicted. self diagnosed, followed by a remedy of denial. perhaps a dash of confusion? some peppered fear? im allergic to reality and sneeze in surrender.
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