Adrift

A Malaysian airplane vanishes. A 15 year old protester dies in Istanbul. More than 5.5 million Syrian children are in need. Venezuela is in flames. Ukraine is in flames. Greece is missing in action. All around the world women’s rights are under attack, LGBT rights are either starting to be respected or are under attack as well, LGBT people are being thrown to prison or worse, racism is on the rise, Nazism is on the rise, fascism is on the rise.   The whole world is in debt and people are starving.

And I’m in my personal bubble, afloat. I’m caught by the current and I’m drifting further and further away. Away; away. The tide’s merciless.  I know where I am; I don’t know where I am. I know who I am; I don’t know who I am. I am getting tired, I am tired, I have been tired already. I don’t know how or why I’m standing. Sheer force of will? Out of habit? Why haven’t I reached my quota yet? When will I reach it and how much (more) will it hurt? Falling. 

I am really really tired.