How Fast Can You Run?

The days are running past me ever faster as I struggle to take it all in and derive some sort of meaning from it. My muscles all ache and my brain is aching, too; I can't handle all of this... maybe it's better this way.

Time no longer holds any meaning for me, as every available second is filled with something; I long for time to just be there and do nothing, but at the same time I hope not to have any time to myself. Because that's when everything creeps in, when my mind goes on overdrive and, for once, I'll actually be able to hear it.

Mostly what I'm doing is drowning out the thoughts and the hopes and the fears that are running and crashing into each other within my subconscious. The only time it's ever a problem is when I'm asleep; but I mask the thoughts with medication and with making sure that I'll be too tired to even register that I'm having a panic attack.

Yes, the room sometimes spins around me and people's voices echo as if I was in a vast chamber; I can almost see the sounds bouncing off of the walls within my empty head. I constantly ignore that, ignore that I feel so sick that I'm barely conscious and ignore that I can barely function even on a regular day. I ignore it and somehow continue to convince everyone that I'm perfectly stable, because sometimes the truth hurts and the truth will wreck you.

No, of course this doesn't mean anything, it's just a jumbled-together mish-mashing of leftover ideas and musings from a forgotten time. Of course this is only what it's always been; words, words upon words in combinations that supposedly make sense and represent images and concepts that I'm not even sure exist. Of course it'll always be just a few phrases that for some reason mean something or other, not that I've ever cared.