Dear Day,

I assume you think it’s fashionable to consist of nothing more than 24 hours.

Have you ever considered a prolonged visit? Perhaps 30-32 hours would be more fitting and might even underline your qualities in a more beneficial way – plus it would give us time to tend to things that really matter.
Less isn’t always more.
Sometimes I wish you would rethink your methods and grace us with your presence a little longer than deemed necessary.

I would ask of you to think about it.
Should you be willing to consider my request, I would be more than happy to schedule a meeting with the Sun and Moon to discuss cycles. I am positive we could come to a satisfactory conclusion for all parties involved.
Thank you for your time – I know it is precious.

the Rushed


Have you ever been absent?
Not there… unfamiliar with yourself?
Have you ever looked at yourself and thought, “Who is this person that is supposed to be me?”

I used to be good at being me.
Now, I am beginning to think I lost touch.

During the week I find myself moaning, barely able to stand the weight of long work hours and appointments, longing for the weekend and some time off… and once the weekend is here, I wish to go back to work because I don’t know what to do with myself.
It is absolutely disgusting.
The nagging question is: When did this happen?

I used to be able to entertain myself.
I used to be able to just read, write… or enjoy nature. Just sitting in the grass for a while was enough – fulfilling.
Now, I look at this shell (that is supposed to be me) in the few hours of time that I have to myself on weekends and it seems like I am just
on the inside – because I feel the need to go back to being under pressure. Minutes keep dragging on, feel endless. Even while writing this, I keep thinking of ways to pass the time until it’s Monday again and I can go back to work – and hating my job. It feels like a Love/Hate -Relationship. Once I’m there, I can’t wait for it to be Friday again – to be rid of demands and ‘have-to’s’… and on the weekends, I can’t wait to get back to the stressful environment I loathe.

Has Society finally succeeded to assimilate me? Has it made me one of their mindless robots?

Perhaps not quite – or I wouldn’t be writing this.
Perhaps this is my true Self’s Last Stand.

It is a frightening feeling to discover you lost yourself.
I keep wondering when that little person inside me (the one who stands for my individuality) shut the door and resigned. I keep wondering when exactly the daily grind got the best of me… drowned me out, without me even noticing.
Utterly frightening.

Can you be addicted to stress?
And even more importantly, how long can you keep it up until your body and mind surrender?

I am frightened by the lack of me within me.
I will heed this warning and work from here… hoping to find my way back.

Good Luck find me… I need it.