Life has become so serious. Not a day has passed in as long as I can remember where I haven't overanalyzed the crap out of every aspect. Every bite of food. My unwavering inability to nail down a daily routine. My dissatisfaction with not finishing my book. Some days, most days, it's like everything in my life craves drastic improvement and I have no energy to lift a finger. I'm a chubby hamster running myself silly when nothing seems to be changing. I feel really sad inside. Always thinking of everything that needs to be better. Looking disappointedly at the lack of it. Wanting everything to be different. I keep thinking of ways to spin this so I'm not an Insta turnoff. I hate eliciting pity, but this kind of writing does just that. Maybe because we feel wrong for being sad, or depressed or dissatisfied, especially in internet-public. It's uncomfortable to look at, because we're supposed to be shooting out beams of light 24/7. A slump is a rut is a wall is a dead-end, a death. Something always exists on the other side of it. A renewed sense of determination. A release of pressure. A new beginning. I go through it to get to the other side. In my time. My own way.