The Paradoxal Ironic Sadness (by myself)

I feel this thing around my chest, pushing in all directions. It is choking me, and I can do nothing, I can't even target at this thing. I have so much to do, now and later, and past. But I just can't do it. I have this excruciating will of doing so, but in the other hand, I don't! I just don't know what to do with myself. I start something, I wanna stop. Stop for what? - I ask myself, and the answer is: I wanna keep going, It's so cool, but I can't stand it anymore. Maybe it is just the lack of sleep, I've just rested my eyes about 3,5h this night, It was difficult to open the burning-blood eyes I had back then. And why - please why!! - am I doing this in English??? You know, I think this answer will have no use at all, I don't care why, I just want something, and everything that seems touchable, I wanna touch, and then not to.
I feel terrible things everysometime, about death and stupidity and so long, but this is not one of those monsters, this is just an insect, invisible, untouchable, that only I can feel its temperature. No one cares about me, no one would understand, no one would help me postponing a test at university with this excuse, every one just thinks I'm a failure, because They just can't feel this boringness. Please pass. Come on mood shift, shift back to good again, come on be a friend. I and just can't believe this. Ironic sadness.