Is life worth living if you can't live it?
Existence is pain, but so is death.
And I'm caught somewhere in between.
Between this and that it's hard to breathe.
I must catch my breath, again and again.
If I could just breathe above the surface.
Then maybe I could swim to the shore.
But there is no shore only and endless sea.
So here I tread, barely keeping afloat.
It's painfull and unfulfillingly somber.
I wonder, is it cold below?
Maybe I should let go.
Is it peaceful below?
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