Space

I hear noises. I see noises. I inhale noises. As I walk, I take them all in. They are stuck in my brain and I can’t get them out. My brain is overloaded. I can’t stand still for a minute without people brushing past or standing too close. Everywhere I turn, I’m being stalked (metaphorically). Sometimes, my impatience or arrogance is to conceal my despair and to fight back the urge to cry as I listen to my music. If there is a thermometer for tolerance, I am 0.1 away from the limit. Not that something bad happen, in fact, nothing bad happen, it is just a normal work day going out on the streets, which kind of makes it worse. I could have said words can’t describe how I feel but I think I just don’t have that skills. If I could really describe that kind of frustration in words, I wouldn’t be here trying to convince myself that nothing is impossible. I would have been a writer in the literary field, writing words that touch and inspire the souls of all those reading it. I would have been a PhD professor with a strong track record in research. But I’m not, I can’t write things that move people and I can’t express myself eloquently enough for outsiders to feel what it’s like for me out there. All I want is a space where I could walk freely, where my mind doesn’t have to be in a constant overloaded vigilance mode, where I do not have to stretch my eyes to see and strain my ears to hear. Please take me away from planet noise. I need my space, plenty of space. A breathing space.

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