…life trying to piece together who I believe I am, all while pretending I have it figured out. I haven’t a shred of an idea.

Word vomit covers the floors and surfaces, splashing across in random directions. I seek patten in all the madness hoping to find organized chaos. Lingering shadows hover over my shoulder with twisted grins watching my every move.

Perpetual nausea in the pit of my stomach leaves a lasting unease to pair with the chest pressure restricting airflow. Only in deep breaths does…