Drawing Blanks
I’ve kinda been off lately. I’ve had concentration problems. I guess I’ve always had concentration problems, but lately they’ve been far worse. There are certain things that I have to get done. There are the things that I want to get done. There are the things that I’m contractually obligated to get done. I have zero motivation. I’ve discovered that I just don’t care. I feel like I’ve grown so comfortable in my rut that I can’t get out. I constantly have an overwhelming sense of claustrophobia. I feel like I’m suffocating. I can’t move. My skin crawls.
Everybody tells me I need a vacation. Everybody says that I need to take a couple weeks to myself.
I need a couple of years to myself. I need something new. Something scary. Something alien. I need a hard reboot. I need something that forces me out of my head. Something that forces me out of my habits.
Which is why I’ve decided that I want to move, I doubt I ever will. I doubt I will for some pathetic sense of obligation. Which might as well be my pathetic way of saying that I’m far too big of a chicken shit to escape from my life, as sad as it makes me.
That’s all I got…

