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I should be able to shake off these feelings but they cloud my mind and rip at my heart. Sorrow. Doom. Hopelessness. Doubt. They are merciless leeches, draining me of my spirit and stealing the warmth from my skin. I feel as if I am shrinking in size, shriveling up with wasted ideas and thoughts. I am a well deeply running with the concentrated waters of candy coated words of dreams that I have every intention of doing but never do. I am inconsistent, and have no follow-through. I have every good intention but I intend to do so many good things that I overwhelm myself with these things, to the point where they are nothing more than toxic bubbles filled with anxiety. There is more but I am too tired to continue. Sorry.