Day 3

Morning: god what a night. Overslept an hour. Body told me to get up. Autopilot. Yoga. Breakfast. Perfect. Wellbeing. No coffee, activate your brain. Working, writing, one hour. two hours. Third hour I get disrupted. Meditation. Planning the day. Fuck. I want this to be perfect. Hunger. Bulletproof coffee. Getting shit done. It feels easier.

Lunch: Rush. Repeating. Reading. Representing. Rushing even more. Pressure. No time, no time at all. Quick smoothie for this evening. A lot of water. Fast eating. I know I won’t feel good on my way. The Road. I’m tired. I’m forcing myself. To learn, to read. War and Peace. Music. Autopilot. Tired. So so tired. Waking through the things I have seen a 1000 times. It looks better than before. I look better than before.

Dinner: Arrival. Stomache. My second home. My best friend. The smell I love, the sight that feels most comfortable. Stress, way too much stress. Water. Smoke. Calmness. Games, Metro, Streaming, Talking. This feels like home. One hour, two hours, I feel annoyed, disrupted, something is off. Food, I need food. It feels better but something still feels off. Can’t concentrate. Smoke. White Tea. Calmness. Talk. Comfort. Once again streaming, talking, happyness, luck, pleasure. Nothing feels off anymore. Everything ends. I feel confusion instead of anxiety or excitement. I have no clear picture of tomorrow but the puzzle sets in slowly. Stomache. Blackness. Tired but not as tired as on my way. It was a good day. Good night.

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