quagmires

Crushed

It feels like a cage is coming down on me. I’m a little fuzzy on the details–I just know that it’s made out of metal and excruciatingly uncomfortable. Something doesn’t fit, and it’s not me. It’s the cage, or maybe it’s something next to me. All I want is to desperately escape this constriction, but I don’t know how. I’m not smart enough. I don’t know enough.

Maybe I’ve been watching too many slasher horror movies, reading too many cheesy books, posts, or just words of a fellow cheeseball, but that’s how I feel. I don’t know how to get out of it either. I don’t a smart solution or a smartphone to get that answer for me. Sure, wolfram alpha is pretty nice when I want to know the diameter if the sun, but I can’t answer my biggest questions about life. (And don’t say it’s 42). I only wish I could “just google it.”

Not that I haven’t tired doing so… Googling my most basic questions about what I should do leads me to hilarious questions and answers on Yahoo answers which leads me to ask another thing: “why would somebody post that on the internet?” I’ll admit though, reading about other people’s problems, which may or may not be true and/or exaggerated, gives me momentary relief that I’m okay, and I can just struggle my way out of things.

Maybe that’s the case, but that cage, man. Why won’t it go away?

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