Sometimes, I feel like my life just might end me. I may be glad with envy, starving from gluttony while at peace with my anxiety. Psychologically, I train my mind constantly to withstand anything, while I break down over everything, feeling pressured by nothing happening.

It’s a balance between being turned upside down by other things; embracing changing myself into judging human beings. I need some sort of peace in me to compare myself with others, viewing things differently.

Don’t be mad at me; I want to create sympathy synthetically. The best of me should stimulate atoms physically, forming happiness casually. Like a phoenix rising from particles of ash, blasphemy, I concentrate inwardly to become less interesting. Cold as ice melted, bubbling,...