The End is near...It's time to leave

Am I then really all that which other men tell of?
Or am I only what I myself know of myself?
Restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage,
Struggling for breath, as though hands were
compressing my throat,
Yearning for colors, for flowers, for the voices of birds,
Thirsting for words of kindness, for neighborliness,
Tossing in expectation of great events,
Powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance,
Weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making,
Faint, and ready to say farewell to it all?

- extract from Who am I? by Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Today was one of those days in which I wish to be somewhere else. The work is sinking, I know I'm leaving in July to study. It doesn't make sense to be here anymore. But I have to, just a little longer, for the money...

Am I selling myself?