Focus. Focus. Focus.
I know it's bad when I have trouble concentrating
on a book I'm reading. Cover the same paragraph,
sometimes the same sentence, three times and still
have no idea what I read.
I have no answers. I'm wearing out the questions.
Everything feels wrong.
Purpose. It seems there is none.
The slippery slope has no sharp edge to grab.
I am a non-person. Less than a statistic.
Invisible as a ghost that cannot even cast a shadow.