The only thing worse than falling is standing still.
Sometimes I wonder about reality and my perception of it- the events, big or small, that are nothing more than a series of cycles.
An endless loop of hope and denial in any level of social stratafication, like the “need experience for job/ need job for experience” conundrum. There has to be a lucky break somewhere, and in the absence of a lucky break, there is a questioning of self and a whole lot of doubt.
The constant unattainability of personal growth, the unceasing frustration that there is no way to know if it’s inherently you, or the circumstances you’re surrendered to.
And so on. These trouble me, not only the questions themselves but the looming threat that I’m becoming detached from reality. That one day, perhaps today, I’ll completely lose my ability to cope with life rationally, unable to put my head down and charge against imagined walls, and start attributing events to some conspiracy of fate or men in black suits.