I'm stressed for a number of reasons. Stressed because of my GCSE Latin Literature exams next week, stressed because I'm afraid that I haven't done enough for my Latin A*, stressed because I don't want to be a failure to anyone and stressed because I can't find a synoynm for 'stressed'. Apart from 'frazzled', that's a good one.
I want to do well in life. I want to make my living from my words. However, being unable to find synoynms does not bode well for the future. I am afraid of being too weak for the publishing system, afraid that my skin is not thick enough to handle all the rejection letters and non-exsistent replies.
I worry too much, I make to-do lists involving the creation of other to-do lists. I plan everything in advance.
Spontaneity does not come naturally to me. Which is why writing in this exercise seems strange and ailen. I don't seem to care about all these details of my young life drifting into the chaos of cyberspace
So yes, I am stressed, but this, this is helping. You know what they say about shared problems, right?
Here I am, standing on the fringes of the future, looking out across the unreadable expanse of dark murky water, the waters of discarded opportunities, broken hearts and big mistakes. Beyond that, a beacon of light, a torch for all those who swim through the waters of life and its harsh realities.
I take the plunge.