The osmotic anxiety

Is there any time left for tonight? Can I make something proper?

It has been over two months since the last time I was standing at that bus stop, which lied opposite to the side road leading to my old High school. At present, one of my classmates is renting a place near the campus, and I spend time there once a week to discuss a few important problems of our team in the class. Today I has been traveling by bus since afternoon, and so was this evening.

Most of the tasks were complete, and by the time I was standing waiting for the bus to catch home, only my own part remained. Everyone had their own shares to take care of, and I’ve tried my best to follow all of their works and support as much as I could. Finally, we gained some positive outcomes in almost all of their problems, until tonight did I realize that there was hardly no time to bring the last part of mine to discuss with them.

Normally, I should be right on tenterhooks about the very limited time for the rest of today, while we have to submit the final solutions in the early tomorrow morning. I’ve been thinking about them and using the best suggestions I could find, but there was still something stuck in my head. Something quite subtle, while only a little push can get things done completely. But my hand still cannot move to write it down.

Therefore, I came here for a bit. Instead of feeling on edge, I hope that writing calmly like this could help my mental state somehow. Right now, I can feel clearly the osmotic pressure of uncertainty appearing from all directions.

However, this state of finishing alone is always my best.

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One thought on “The osmotic anxiety

  1. Pingback: Author Interview – Rosemarie Aquilina – “Triple Cross Killer” (State Detective Special Forces Series) (Crime/Thriller) | toofulltowrite (I've started so I'll finish)

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