An Old Friend

I had my first anxiety attack in a long time. It was surprising. It’s possible that I used up all of my anxiety in the early days and I just now built up enough to feel it again. They weren’t uncommon before, but it’s difficult to really put my finger on what I have to be stressed about. Given the circumstances, I should be applauded just for being alive. What more do I need to do? I suppose I should clarify that all of my panic attacks are about my direction in life. It’s difficult to say what that is, being that I have no society to judge my actions against. I can quite literally do anything I want, provided I don’t need 6 billion other people to approve. And yet I find that strangely limiting. And to be honest, I don’t know that there aren’t other people out there, but it’s been a little too long for me to believe that this hasn’t happened everywhere. I don’t know that for sure. Maybe there’s picture of me sitting on my roof awaiting help on the cover of magazines, and video of Zoic and I “salvaging” things from homes all over the news, just outside of our reach. It would be terrible if this was all somehow a sick joke, but, as the philosophers say, fuck the skeptics, I’ll just have to believe what my senses tell me.

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