I dont know wtf is going on!

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I dont know wtf is going on!

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For the last 4 years, I lived in my childhood home with my parents. I slept in the same room since I was 4.
Now, I have an amazing job opportunity but it requires me to relocate. Why do I feel so sad?
To speak true things, I do not want to leave. I know I must in order to grow as a person. Is it so wrong that I do bot want to leave.
I feel like a child who has lost their mother in the grocery store.
The longer I work in the US Education system, the duller my mind becomes. I used to be able to read and devour books as if my life depended on it. I used to draw, sing, make music, run, and lift. My psyche has taken 1000 damage from the strain of my job. My mind is so overwhelmed and exploited it has just refused to serve me. I give, and give, and give. They take and take and take. Everything has changed my grammar, my spelling, my writing, my reading, my voice, my mind, my soul.
All the lights are on except for one. I sit, stare, and ponder, "When will the light be fixed? Will it flicker?Dim?"
All the lights are on except for one. Slowly, a silhouette can be made out. Quite a strange silhouette, it's soild yet transparent.
All the lights are on except for one.
I am going to bed early, so I do not get confused as a Dennis.

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My solitude morphed into loneliness.
I do not know what is happening. I still enjoy my peace. I do. Why is it now that my heart feels heavy? What is the source of this deep sense of melancholy?
Perhaps, I hope, I am confusing my emotions with something else? Oh, I hope so. It makes no sense that after more than a decade of solitude, I suddenly have a yearn in my heart.
Am I confusing stillness with loneliness? I have never been known to be a stagnate creature. It doesn't suit me well. Drapes ever so strangely off my shoulders, makes an odd sound when I speak, twitches when I blink, creaks and sputters when I stand.
Now I find, my mind in ruins. Look at all the tattered books. Moths and worms at last found a home. My tapestries hang burned and covered in soot and ash. The ground crunches with the bones of dead dreams, hopes, ambitions. The works of literature which I once worked tirelessly on, graffitied all over by some toddler. Souls wander through these halls speaking in strange tongues, ones I once knew.
I have nothing left. I am just a shell of whom I once was.
What happened?
Soledad
La semidiosa del desierto.
Capaz que será cierto
No me queda de otra.
De mis padres soy la contra.
Fria.
Seca.
Mi corazón no conoce a Venus.
Mi mente no conoce a Serenus.
Love my First Nation ancestors, sending me messages when I am lonely, sad, and emotionally exhausted. It is an embrace that I can never forget.