Bad Days

I was functioning, moving forward, solving problems one at a time, but it was as if the very ground I walked on, the air I breathed was precarious and new. As if everything had changed, because I had changed.

I knew better.

I knew that no matter how bad you feel, or whatever horrible thing happens to you, that the world just keeps on going. The rest of the world doesn’t even realize that the monsters are eating your heart.

A long time ago it used to bother me that I could be in such confusion, such pain, and the world just didn’t give a shit. The world, the creation as a whole, is designed to move forward, to keep on keeping on without any one individual person.

It feels damned impersonal, and it is.

But, then, if the world stopped rotating just because one of us was having a bad day, we’d all be floating out in space.