There is a sinking feeling associated with failure. Whether it be on an exam you thought you aced but did not, or another rejection letter from yet another closed door. A feeling that if only the knife kept scrapping you would have succeeded. You begin to feel lost inside the maze within. A maze that just continues to grow and grow as the spreading continues.
There is an emptiness inside of you when you are spread past your limit. Places where the essence of you has not been placed evenly and thickly. Spread past the point of thin. Past the point of capability. Past everything until a piece of you is lost. Another domino inside wobbles, threatening to undo everything before it.
There is an exhaustion associated with being constantly spread across the bread of life. A never ending, never satisfied exhaustion. The kind that even if you had an IV of caffeine, it would only be a temporary patch. The nagging lure of sleep that you have to ignore because you have to do something else. An abyss of exhaustion.
Where is the escape from this life? You know that even if you tried to cut back, there would be an emptiness. The echo of potential wasted. You may see someone else excelling in the very activity you thought best to back away from. A new feeling emerges.
Disappointment. You could do everything they seem to excel in, but now you can't. Why? Because you didn't exert yourself to your highest potential. You stopped the knife. Are you happy that you are not essentially a scrapping of essence? No. You are sad. You are empty. You still are littered of holes because once you have a taste of what could have been, there is no stopping that internal knife. Driving you closer and closer until something else gives. Another hole is created. Another goal is reached, but at what cost?
Who are you at the end of the day? You are spread thin. This is the hand life has dealt you.