it starts quietly, a slow, creeping tiredness that sneaks up on you like a fog. you suddenly realize, with sharp clarity, that for hours or maybe much longer. you’ve been stuck in a dull, uncomfortable state.
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it’s not a sharp or burning pain, nothing that screams for attention, but it’s suffocating all the same. your body feels like it’s given up on you, leaving you weak and powerless, as if you’ve lost all strength and structure.
now, in your late twenties, you’re overwhelmed by the sense that your life is already mapped out for you. every step has been planned, from birth to death. the roles are assigned, the costumes fitted, the props set in place.
from infancy to old age, every stage is ready and waiting. there’s no room for surprises or spontaneity. the future doesn’t look like a wide-open horizon full of possibilities; instead, it feels like a narrow path leading straight to the inevitable end.
in this situation, indifference might seem like a small act of rebellion. you might tell yourself that by rejecting societal norms eating the same bland food every day, wearing the same worn-out clothes, repeating the same routines, you’re making a bold statement.
but deep down, you know the truth. your refusal doesn’t shake the system; it just fits right into it. your apathy is meaningless, your resistance as empty as your anger. whether you fight back or give in to numbness, the result stays the same.
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