Why the fuck Is that truck outside so loud?

How the fuck am I supposed to collect my thoughts? 

How am I supposed to get anything finished? 

Is this sensory overload? It feels like a lot.

Take a deep breath, count to 10, go outside 

These little phrases are condescending 

“It’s just a bad day not a bad life”

Okay. Well, this day needs a better ending. 

I don’t even know why I feel like this 

Maybe anxiety? maybe misplaced aggression? 

I know that a lot of my shits my own fault 

But fuck, I’m tired of learning lessons

Just keep running? writing? “holding space”?

Today just really hit my ceiling 

It feels fucking good just to bitch sometimes 

Distract myself from my own feelings