Phases

The days are passing in a blur but they are not passing quickly.
There is where occurs the damage.
The damage of an approximate permanency that can't be handled.
What you have is never enough.
What you don't have is always tearing you apart.
You shouldn't pass your time, you should use it.
But who teaches, doesn't preach.
Do they?
It's a circle.
It's a never ending race.
You are bothered by something and things seems impenetrable.
Then you achieve it and move ahead.
Face another demon.
But all the time the hurt is real.
For others, maybe they see the stupidity.
But you see all those hours where you lie motionless.
Tears without voice.
Thinking I have wasted one more day of my life.
Cringing and crying and complaining.
It's toxic.
It's nonchalant.
But it is there, this weird pain.
The pain of being so away that it seems you are alone yet surrounded.
It suffocates.
It doesn't help.
Everything pinches, nothing bothers.
You eat, repeat, loathe, eat more and think.
Cheer yourself up.
But see the downfall again next morning.
It's a loop.
Time heal things.
But what if this time things need to heal the time.
That is harsh and hard.
Healing time needs time.
And every second counts.
You don't have enough time to waste.
No one ever has.
Because the very next second you could fall in a pit.
A pit deep enough to pull you in depression.
But these are the extreme thoughts.
The most that can happen is an utter darkness.
Which you feel when you remember this time.
A time that no one understands but everyone knows about.
Because things are hard from only one side.
From the other side it'
s the most normal thing in the world.
Is it?
Exaggerations?
Panic?