labor

i know that i am stressed for i can feel it in my chest

the racing of the thoughts that everything is nought

the pain that lacks purpose and shakes me furthest

there isn't enough time but all the same given to everyone every day the same that i have been given and living since my origin

lacking in prediction it removes my volition there is nothing but dejection for there's nothing to emblazon no change to be driven my time is worthless and I'm livid that nothing matters but my impression it's all just an illusion to drive some institution