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…

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