Life with No Future

imagesa mood is not something you can pin to a point in time. It’s traced over the course of a day. Or weeks. Or months. Or years. Like weather–there will be seasons, there will be storms. There will be, now and then, blessed breakthroughs of sun and light. So it’s no good, telling yourself… or anyone else, that your mood is this or that.
This was a day that began with near panic attack anxiety level. I suppose it got better. Acute blurred into chronic, if that’s what you call, better. I need dystopic reading material… to distract me from this dystopia I inhabit.
No, it’s not all in my head. It’s out there. Everywhere. I’m just registering it at sometimes what approaches near suicidally acute levels… than, like I said… it blurs into a more general miasma.
It’s completely beyond my comprehension–why anyone would choose to have a child now, given what they are likely going to endure.
Life without a future. There is no future. This is all we have. All we’re gonna get.

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