Repeat.

Though my body is still in it's early years, I'm constantly gazing at the sands of time slipping through my fingers. The feeling is laden and unescapeable at times. Needing to make something special of my life has slowly turned into an ever revolving door in my mind with the most final of time limits. I'll go about my day as happy as one could be until I feel the walls of my mind closing in, usually when I'm sat alone thinking of whats to come. I;m stuck in my personal groove of creeping anxiety and doubt. My mind like a mad scientist cloning the same string of thoughts and waiting for me to settle down before releasing them into my blissful consciousness.