Soe what?

At times, it just gets tiring.
The going gets tough, and you don't know if you're tough enough to keep going, to make it out.
At times, it just gets tiring to see yourself in the mirror, to see yourself draped in that blue cloth in hope of hitting the microphone again. It gets unassumingly unimaginable; to succumb to fear and know it, and pretend to escape it. At times, time seems to tick slower than it was a second ago, at times, unwillingly fast.
At times, you just lose it.
You see them on TV, the people who you think shouldn't really be; the news that isn't really still; the counter-reality runs. He's a superstar, and so is she, and so is that guy, and so is he, and that girl in red, and that guy with a plaid shirt.
At times, it's just plain annoying; to see what you wrote, read and re-read to see it still makes as much sense as it did before you read it.
An unusual shot of compulsive impulsiveness kicks in to synonymous behavior as sentences start to depend only on perception, and the reason you started out is only another vague memory.

And just as I felt it couldn't get worse, a kid woke up all the way on the other side. Silent transmission - State of Emergency.