jan. 25th, 2021
new beginnings should've brought new chances for growth and starting over. a new chapter in my book to fill with joy and happiness. not sickness and sadness and regret and pain and misery and madness.
instead of experiencing a floodgate of creativity and productivity, i've been cursed to suffer a drought of the self. there's nothing more to give. the glass is empty. it's broken, even, or has been for a while.
every time i try to do anything, i get paralyzed by my feelings. too anxious about the future to get anything done. then too depressed about my lack of progress.
suspended in a state of procrastination that i cannot escape. only thing i can manage to do is sleep and eat and waste more time.
if only humans could hibernate and wake up refreshed again. it feels as if my soul needs to hibernate before i'm whole again. existence was never as tiring as it is now.
until then, it feels as if i have nothing more to give and i've officially burnt myself out. perhaps these words i've scraped together can make me whole again. one can dream.
YOU ARE READING
arcane magic
Short Storya book of poetic ramblings, where words have the power to make us feel both lost and found all at once. an exploration of what it means to be alive and feel things and why we're here.
