Symptom Lab

You’re carrying energies that aren’t yours. Again.

You’re allergic to small talk and starving for soul food.

You’d apologise to a lamp post for bumping into it.

You backspaced your entire personality — again.

You’ve been microdosing false hope again, haven’t you?

You told yourself ‘this is fine’ one too many times.

Your thumb’s in a parasocial K-hole.

You’re not tired. You’re spiritually arsoned.

You’re not tired — your soul is dehydrated.

You were born screaming into the void, and the void never stopped listening.

You crave attention but only under 13 layers of metaphor and a cloak of invisibility.

Not sick enough to lie down. Not well enough to stand up.

You’ve done it all. Alone. And you’re exhausted.

You’ve shape-shifted so much you don’t remember your default settings.

Surrounded, but unseen. Welcome to the modern condition.

You've thought through 19 endings to a conversation that hasn’t started yet.

You keep expecting a plot twist that never arrives.

Too many tabs open. In your browser and your brain.

Everything’s fine. Until it’s not. Then it’s fine again. Maybe.

Your body’s present. Your soul is in a different postcode.

You forgot that you’re made of stardust and audacity.