I’m doing too much, I really am.
Time management? More like constant rush hour.
I’m at that stage where I need to make plans, but no, I really can’t think of the future. I’m way too busy with thinking of how much potential I have that has not been made reality. Trying to be the best I can be, because average is really a chore. I can’t cope. I can’t do everything but I cannot not. Sleep has become rare and my emotions scattered. I don’t even think my sentences make sense…
I’m sorry for whatever ‘potential’ that never is made possible, I really am. I can’t choose what is next when I want to do it all. My ankle is weak, just like my head. Don’t question. My art is distorted, it is just figures with trains and paper bags and sorrow and dancing and all of those may also have potential. 
But is that all I can ever be? Just potential? Another average person in an average place trying so hard. I know it’s not hard enough. I will never be good enough. 

Too much to do, too much potential.