There’s a feeling—something deep inside that tries to stop me from acting the way I want. It holds me back, tightens my chest, and it hurts. It’s like I’m tearing myself apart from the inside. I feel like I’m both one thing and another, but these two sides of me often clash. At times, it’s as if they’re locked in a brutal fight, one throwing punches at the other, and I can’t even tell who’s winning—or who’s who. I have to remind myself it’s okay. I shout at them, “Enough! You’re both right. Now, take a break.”
And then there are those nights when falling asleep feels impossible. Anything that rises in my mind sends ripples through my entire body. My pulse races before I can even catch the thought that triggered it. My heart is pounding, yet I can’t pinpoint why. Am I worrying too much? Am I afraid of dying? Afraid of aging? Why can’t I just accept that youth won’t last forever? And why, for the love of everything, can’t I just live in the present—stop caring so damn much about what’s yet to come?
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