Fit

What the fuck is wrong with this world?!!! What the fuck is wrong with me. Why do I have to get so involved in books and then no longer be able to distinguish reality from fiction. I no longer know if these are my feelings or the protagonist’s. Why can’t things be clear. Why do I have to be so confused all the time. Why is the survival of the fittest acceptable. So must you strive your entire life just to be fit? Is that called being successful? Being fit? But what if you’re not fit enough? Well, obviously you pretend to be fit. What if I get so involved in pretending to be fit, that there isn’t space left for anything else.

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