My chest my legs my arms my hands my body feels numb. I'm sitting here leaning on my desk, miserably trying to keep myself afloat. Boredom is a dangerous thing for me. I sit, and I think. I need anything to keep me distracted. I think about everything that's going on, the likelihood of something happening, where my life is going, and how slow. I reflect on my decisions, I over analyze. I read into anything and everything. Weigh the possibilities, pros and cons, and generally come up with still no answer. I realize how lonely I am. I can always tell when it's coming. Those mini panic attacks I have. Thinking about my life, alone, how I'm bound to end up in the end. How little there is to do, how meaningless my day-to-day is. It feels like weights are slowly building on my chest and arms. I try to breathe normal, never works. That endless pit of despair opens below me, and the world spins around as I tumble down. My mind begins to race, running over everything faster and faster. The weights build up, and I fall ever more quickly. I'm a royal wreck. Full beard by thirteen, midlife crisis at twenty. I'm barreling through my life line, watching the end hurtle towards me. I figure I'm usually sitting on the line at about twice my actual age. Dead by forty, what a glorious day it'll be.