summer

Being back was a lie. I don’t do lies but now did unfortunately, which also makes it a lie.
Trying my best here. With life itself.
Some days it’s easy and some days there’s a weight crushing down me, making it hard to even function. It’s impossible to grip anything and everything seems to slip through your fingers. All you can do is observe in terror and hope it’ll stop at some point. Before you turn into a pile of mush.
Can feel death creeping closer again, people crossing over to the other side. Others are on the brink of it, hospitalized. We’re only waiting to see what happens. Makes me want to run away, escape.

At least it’s summer and my exhibition opens in a few days.