Cracks in the concrete

I’ve been seeing things that make me wonder what I am supposed to prepare for? My grandmother carrying a big heavy battle axe ready to split a skull. My grandfather standing under falling waters. My father cutting down a large tree. People attacking others and not showing remorse. Those who have fought long and hard, just quit and drop their sword. These are visions every day now.

Meanwhile I’m losing my mind trying to accomplish little tasks. Always being stopped by something out of my control. Slowly this is chipping away my protective cage. The place that holds a beast of rage and fury deep within. The walls are beginning to crack. I’m not sure how long before it breaks. I’m hiding in a dark corner trying to breathe. I hear him breathing.

Published by Snowy Owl

There was a lot more written here before. Then I saw it was irrelevant. I am just another person with an autoimmune disease and spectrum ”disorder” who is highly sensitive to their environment. I thought I would write a few things down, so here you go. Swim at your own risk!

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