Lucidity

miedosa
My days seem to drift by exhaustingly:
Twenty minutes of absolute stupidity, interrupted by thirty-two seconds of guilt, controlled by one hour of gluttony. I seek Twelve minutes of divination, followed by days of remorse. I distract myself with endings and resolutions and decide that I must continue in uncertainty. I invite three hours of criticism that is followed by two hours of blame. I devour fifty-five minutes of sadness and replace it with fear. I savor the joy around me and laugh when least expected. I perform routine duties and invent plans that take fifteen minutes to demolish. I bask in self-defeat and struggle to reclaim control when held down. I consistently am consumed with love and the acceptance of its being. I am devout for three minutes and slowly begin to appreciate my existence.