I'm running out of space

I'm drowning.  I'm suffocating.  I'm running out of space.

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Now whenever I send the words out into the universe there is someone I know, someone who knows me, who reads them and interprets them.  Sometimes things just need to be let out and let breathe.

Like me.  I'm in a cramped room, though I am surrounded by the things I love they're burying me.  That room is burying me alive.  So is my job.  I need to get out. And breathe.

Drowning.

Stevie Smith - Not Waving But Drowning
Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.

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