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This is interesting. I can't stop. Running. Always running, constantly, no matter how hard it gets to breathe. I am in a dark corridor, where is the light? I need to find some light, some guidance, anyone, please!
I feel so much pressure.
The first minute - gone. Nothing left, all just broken dust in the wind.
I want to say something.
This has to be meaningful.
But what can I say?
What should I write?
I am good with words, so proud of my image as a real wordsmith.
People call me talented all the time.
But it takes time to produce something good.
I don't have time and it doesn't matter whether the outcome of this is good or not. It is about me and my subconscious and stuff and I really shouldn't worry, but all I can write about is this damn anxiety and time and pressure.
What a weird text.
I like metaphors. But with time running out - half of it is gone by now - I can't focus on language. Or on content. I can't focus on anything.
The most important thing is to keep going.
Even if I feel like what I'm saying right now sucks. Never stop typing
Even if the walls are closing in all around and the air is slowly getting thinner - less than two minutes left - I must never stop.
There is always something else left to do.
Another step to take.
Another word to write.
Another thought to have.
Always.
And as time is running low - one minute -
I forget to breathe and my body is tensing up.
So this is how I'm going to end?
This is what I've been working for?
It's getting harder to avoid the typos as my strength and concentration start to fade.
Thirty seconds.
This is not getting anywhere.
Is it meaningless?
I don't know but I can't stop
10 seconds
go go go
five
four
I'm d-
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