“Pieces of man / I’m learning the hard way what I am”

I Dont Feel Any Different

Every day seems to get a little better. Hard work is paying off, accomplishments are piling up, little victories are being recorded in the footnotes.

And I feel nothing.

Success is never easy on me; any type of achievement is met with a depressive dip in effort and decline in productivity. Nothing life can offer me seems to pull me from this funk. It seems the more I have, the less I want.

The movie I spent 5% of my life working on is streaming on Amazon now.

I wrote a new script for a short film. I’d like to make it but I don’t know anyone here who works on that sort of thing.

I always seem to want to be doing whatever I’m not.

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About ericmcclanahan

I am completely average in every way. Average height, average weight, average intelligence, average ethnicity, average American standard of mental illness. Hell, I think I might even be average-aged. I am exceptionally average, and I lead an average life. Why, then, am I incapable of seeing it as anything other than a Fractured Fable of unlimited beauty and horror playing out before me?
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