Description of how i feel about life

A fragile existence, stretched thin like a worn sheet. Each day bleeds into the next. A monotonous repetition of breath in and breathe out. Neither particularly joyful nor definitively painful. Just, present. There's an awareness of the skeletal cage, containing a collection of fleeting impulses. Desires surface briefly, then dissipate, leaving only the lingering echo of their potential. The pursuit of anything seems pointless, each victory hollow, a brief distraction from the pervasive undercurrent of nothingness. Connections fade and crack. Friendships, acquaintances, even loves, devolve into muted silences. Everything feels transient, ephemeral. A fragile film over an abyss that always waits just beneath the surface. there is no meaning here, only motion. An ongoing, unwinding clock ticking away the seconds. Marking the inevitable return to stillness. It continues forward, not from conviction, but from the stubborn habit of simple being.