A POCKETFUL OF POSIES

In my head, I wonder if I could get 100 people in my life to contribute $100 each to my tuition/rent fund. It would help go a fucking long way, especially for my mental health. I feel like I could, also only if they didn't have rent or debt or anything else to clear. I don't want to burden anyone else, but I also know I know quite a few people who are already well-settled in life, who have their money just sitting and growing for them, that $100 to them doesn't mean the same as it does to me (an entire day of waged work). I don't have enough money to invest and make my money work for me, and also I truly do not know how to feel about the ethics of investing, if I did have the money. 

I am perhaps a third of the way done with my essay. I might have more Red Bull than blood in my body right now, scientifically that is probably not possible nor accurate, but I have so much Red Bull in me that I threw up a bit of it this morning. It is probably a sign that my body is rejecting it, which on the whole, in the long run is probably better for me, seeing as Red Bull is just 100000% sugar and I am speaking only in hyperbole this morning. 

Sometimes my colleagues tell me they don't know how I do it, the taking up of extra shifts when people don't want them, the staying up overnight to attend classes and do my school work, the actual audacity of me scheduling in time to socialise so I can get good vibes, the pretence that five minutes of meditation a day could balance out the impossibility of my situation. I don't know how I do it either, there is no knowing how, if I knew how I was doing it, it would take up too much energy for the awareness, I am simply holding on and doing it, and doing and doing and just doing it. I should be Nike's ambassador. Don't know, just do. 

I am holding on by sheer volume of Red Bull and I need to 

breathe

breathe, Sarah, breathe

breathe

I said breathe, not cry

breathe

it's okay

it will be okay