Summer Sighs

I sit quietly at my computer, brushing clothes off my chair before collapsing into it. I am surrounded by piles of unfinished projects, scraps of ideas sketched out on paper, useless doodles begging me to bring them to life. Dirty coffee cups grace the desktop, no long useful in the combination of their grime and my lack of time. Mountains of clothes surround me, books with pages marked halfway through, accusing me with their unfinished plotlines. Ideas bubble through my mind and, nearly as quickly as they come, tiredness shuts them out.

Sadly enough, I feel myself slipping into a sense of abandoned chaos, in much the same way as these momentos of myself. My days have fallen into a routine that is draining my mind as well as my energy. Feelings have become as numb as my feet at the end of the day, aching for attention yet always finding me negligent and reluctant to find reprieve. Instead, I find myself collapsing into bed as the comfort ebbs through my veins and slowly carries me into my dreams.

Though I have not run out of time to dream, my ideas are reduced from reality to small scraps of paper, for I find I cannot allow them room to breathe. Days are slipping out of my control, no longer mine to dictate. Even as I assure myself it is just a phase, I am afraid this time is not something which I should allow myself to lose, let alone lose myself in.

Life is different now, more a stranger to me than it has ever been.