Lately, I have this amazing sense of being able to do whatever the fuck I want whenever the fuck I want. Surely if this was a positive thing I wouldn’t feel so anxious.
I have this overwhelming feeling of worry hanging over me. It’s like I’m on a rollercoaster and it’s taking me through my life much faster than my stomach can handle. I’d very much like to get off and take a few deep breaths before they pull the barrier back down and lock me in, but the guy in the dodgy, freebie baseball cap is just looking up and laughing at how terrified I am.
What will happen if I continue to go so fast? What if the rollercoaster comes off the tracks? I need to stop. I need to take everything around me in. I’m fast forwarding through my life and I need to slow down. What if I continue going so fast that I run out of things to do by the time I turn 60? Is that even possible? Perhaps I’ll lose the ability to appreciate all the things around me because all I can see is a blur of colours as a speed round each loop.
The guy in the funny looking cap is starting to let the other passengers off one by one. He does it gradually and slowly, mocking me. Soon it’ll just be me on this ride and what happens then?
I need a hand to hold.
I need to stop.