Freefall.

You know how some days tear you up from inside, devour your flesh, vomit you back out in a half-digested mass and hope you feel better at the end of it?

Yeah. Just worse.

I guess I should admit that it's not as bad as it seems. There are plenty of things I am thankful for, and yes god I am very thankful. But I should also admit that I have a tendency to exaggerate the situation to a point where it can't be identified.

But I still feel like shit and you can't deny that.

It's that time of year again where I only leave my room to breathe. Everything suddenly becomes a distraction: the sick state of my room, the spot of grease on my window, the speck of dust in the corridor, bread in the toaster, a leaky faucet, the absence of cheese in the fridge, grass growing, paint drying. And just when I have seized that moment of concentration, it evades me like the bug on my wall.

Ooh, bug.

I have an unnecessary stockpile of magazines on the floor of my room that are calling to be perused, when it's the financial markets and the fucktards who gamble on it that need to be understood. I have sticky notes reminding me of unfinished work, pasted on the sole strip of wall in my room untouched by anything decorative (shocking), but nothing motivates me to get to them. I have less than three weeks until my brain completely explodes, and I don't seem to want to care about it at all. I can't focus on anything solid, and I feel nauseous reading information I don't even want to care about.

Who gives a fuck about risk and return on fucking bonds that crashed the fucking markets in the first place sending us all into friggin freefall with no chance of covering our asses?

This isn't the first time the stock market has crashed ... maybe there IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH IT.

Take a hint.

Cheers.