Three days into the week and not one drop of effort into intense thinking. My extended essay has taken shape, but was never to be touched again. I have no aim for it, and until I get that, I won't be able to write any more on it. The end of the week approaches fast without warning, I'm doubting the fact that I have time to put on finishing touches onto it by Friday, there's ismply too much.
Besides that, I don't feel anything else except for the heat from the ever-glaring sun, harsh and austere, radiating the skies until nothing can live anymore. So much water has gone past these lips, lakes must have become extinct.
I've been putting a lot of things off lately, which is never a good sign, but I really don't want to get back on track to what I was doing, I want to taste the freedom that I once had many years ago, I want to relive the days where I didn't have to fend myself off all on my own. But no, I'm stuck here with my ambitions unfulfilled, having to come up with consolations and cope to live with those.
Unsatisfied you might say, it's what I'm capable of. I'm realizing that I won't be able to live up to what I had always believed in: "All or nothing."
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment