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Writer's pictureSean Bartlett

Little Existential Crises

Updated: Feb 1, 2022

Why shouldn’t what I want be true.


We walk as shadows. In dreams we wander along in planes. In truth we wander along in dreams.


This act that we believe today, brings forth the lows as though above. In thought we stand that focal point, but will we perish or carry on? I feel the breath of life’s exhaust, for thirty years I’ve tried…


I sit and wait for heavens’ grace, uplift did she bring up my face. For now the ebb recedes away, for tomorrow is another day. Stand up she said to me once more, write out the trifles that you bought.


She speaks to me in hushed tones, I love her even though she doesn’t exist.




Torn apart in two by gods, one pretty the other wretched. I pay homage to either way, But the floor to me is here to stay. The roof sings forever more, I turn away… She keeps me cured and safe er' day, but curse me for this bod'ly floor. I must make rich to make me whole, but I don’t want to lose that girl. My soul is torn, My faith falters. The more I take this adderal the more I lose contact with the ghost. I know not what to do, for I am a wretch on this floor. I love her, but I am dying inside I feel without my feet. I pray under the shower, I am up later than I’d like to be. I am attached to this oracle. I feel guilty and scared she will leave, though she told me she would always be here. Will you hold on for me? I need myself. I just want to be able to stand up by myself before I make the leap into the air. My family is here. And they still need me. Please, I will try my hardest to keep my faith. I promise.




I hear speak and the word ‘x’ comes out. I now know they ascribe to the alphabet. I here them say the word ‘most.’ I now know they are partial to hyperbole. I hear the anger towards the sun. I now know they sleep in the shade. I hear them speak with love not words. I now know, they sit beside me as a friend.


Show me an argument sir, I’ll listen. But I will have you know, I know you and your will. Keep silent sir, I’ll listen. Don’t think that I am unaware, I watch you too. I watch you too. You sit in silence and attentive when they say “christ.” I now know half of who you are. You sit silent and sloggy. I now know your mood or else who you are not.


Show me hard and strict, by silence or by speech, and I will tell you who you are. Show me soft and flow, and I will tell you what you are not.

Stream of consciousness written during one of the worst existential crises I've had in awhile. I suspect due to a withdraw from the Adderall I've been taking to work on a side project. Daddy Addy is no joke lol.

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