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I say nothing matters, everything is worthless and all is meaningless.
But perhaps meaning fills me with dread. Perhaps value suffocates me. Perhaps finding what matters frightens me.
Perhaps I find no solace in my apathy, because it's nothing more than cowardice. Perhaps I find no freedom in my inability to care, because it's actually terror.
Perhaps I let things go because I'm scared of losing them. Perhaps the pressure of life keeps me from living.
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. But either way, it’s time for something. It’s time for anything.
Or perhaps, it’s time for everything.