Desperation.

I'm desperate. Always. For time, attention, money, love. For more. Always more. No such thing as enough. It's so hard to be happy with these heaps of desperation. Nearly impossible to be creative. If nothing's enough, if I'm not enough, why bother? No one cares, it doesn't matter. Stupidly loud voices inside my head. I dive deeper and deeper into my routes of escape- social media, entertainment, pretending to care, physical affection, being busy with the urgent to think of the important. And where does that get me? I'm a damned rat in a cage, not even sure what free could be. Currently so desperate I'm unable to even focus on my blissful ignorance, my postponement of the real world. How can you ignore the desperation when you're not even sure if you'll have food tomorrow?