Sometimes I feel a little insecure. Sometimes I feel so small. Sometimes I feel I can't come out that strong.
There's this unmistakable sense of deja vu. Everything is caught in a turning point once again. The fear, the anxiety and the tiredness of the next few years trapped in a mad rush to perform is scary. The thought of jumping into this whirlpool once again makes me want to cry. My hands still tremble and I still feel that urge to ________________. I might, I might not. I don't know when.
I haven't fully recovered yet. That's an undeniable truth in which I live in denial.
The course of the flow reverses into chaos with an unexpected leak in the system. As it drips out, seeing daylight for the first time, I felt a sense of relief. But deep inside it's all just chaos.