It’s when I’m weary of considerations, and life is too much like a pathless wood.

Life is so strange.

I go back and forth on being bothered by it. Some days I’m terrified of the unknown and others I’m as care free as the lilies and ravens.

Some days I’m wide awake and motivated. Others I’m exhausted and don’t care if it never gets done.

I’m so disturbed by what I just wrote that I pasted it onto the internet to see if I’m bipolar.

My therapist says I’m not.

Supposedly, it’s normal. And that makes me sad for everyone else.

So what is this life?