Is there a name for what's going through my head. I cant seem to get beyond the girl that I hate. Am worried about Tuesday and the continuation of the working with students. Am unsure about setting up a resume. A little worried about being alone. Am a little afraid that the dead are about to rise to feast on the flesh of the living. Apprensive that I wont be able to keep going. I dont get it. Am I sad, mad, happy, content? How can I be completely miserable and completely happy at the same time? I cant seem to conect with my students. Cant seem to let my shied down and just be myself. I cant seem to be happy about being with people. And just want to curl up alone and be by myself for a good long period. I just dont get it. How can all this crap be in my head and still leave me feeling . . . . nothing. Completely alone, afraid, and angry. Yet smothered, excited, and over-joyed. HOw can all of this be wrapped up inside of one little old me. I feel like I;m going to explode. Or just float off. Like my fibers will just realease their hold of the earth and I'll drift off into space. Like I'll just loose myself in time, in place, in history, and just become a lost water mark on the corner of some worn out book in some guys basement. Like my life is rushing toward an aburpt end of sitting and doing the same thing for the rest of my days. Never to change, grow, or learn anything new. I feel like I'm losing myself in a torrent of days and hours and duties. As if the sun has lost it's warmth, and the moon lost it's light. I feel I need to stand up for myself and be heard, but cant seem to raise my voice. I feel afraid to take what is mine and be who I know I can be. As if I'm destined to sit in this one place, at this one time for the rest of days. As through one day i'm to be student teaching and 22, and the next be 50 and doing the next thing I decide to do. I just dont . . . feel right. I dont feel like a part of this world, a part of this race, I feel displaced. Like I missed my dimensional exit and lost my true calling in life. As if the one piece of my exsistance has been shadowed by the wayside of life and I cant recover it. I feel lost in a torrid of tomorrows, and plans, forgotten in lists and money. As if all the sums of my exsistance conclude in some shelves in my room. As if my very being has been questioned and I am to be not but a blasphamous nothing. Lost . . .lost. Alone, with never a chance. Forgotten, with no memory. Left behind in a race with only my two feet to carry me the distance. Is everyday to be struggle, a fight. A new reason to give up, with no reason to fight on? Is everyday only to bring a new tomorrow with only the rising and setting sun? Is there only the same horizen I've seen for years and years now. To be lost and forgotten by any and all who care to find and remember. Am I to not even register on the radar of tomorrown, of today, of yesterday? Must I progress, play and continue? Must I jump and beg, fight and strife. Must I live without, and be buried by excess. Can I ever be me again? Can I ever live and succeed? Must I, will I struggle, and run aground continually? Can I ever find my missing piece?