shitty metaphors to cope

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theres that party trick that everyone knows

where you take the table cloth and swiftly tug it off the table but all the plates and cups and cutlery stay.

i feel like i am preforming this trick for the 100th time.
(but the first with real glass)
i am grasping at the cloth with sweaty palms wondering if it will all shatter or if i'll get lucky when im pulling it up from under the fine china.

i am dragging it slowly

until eventually

i whip it off.








and my demise begins

because everything clatters to the ground, sending sparkling shards of porcelain and glass across the room.

............................................................................................

i dont know what to do anymore. this is a balancing act and if one minuscule detail goes wrong all we do is shatter. i am scared.

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