I mean, getting sick for a month, humiliated on a train, not being able to get a job, and the worst of all, I felt dead. Passive; I can't think of anything that stretches the imagination, intrigues the mind, impress the masses. So I caved and render into submission of glowing screens. Portal to another dimension; trapping the soul and discarding the husk.
And the most recent case of karma fucking me up, I lost my wallet. And my grandma just gave me money so I can survive because my mom rarely gave me any money for the holidays and it's too late to get a job even part-time retail due to my sickness in the previous month. I'm still recuperating and sometimes it comes now and then. So I thought the medicine would make me drowsy but my fucked-up sleep cycle made me drowsy in the afternoon and left me wide awake at night, making me tear up in desperation and frustration from being unable to sleep.
I tried to pry away form the Internet but my eyes just kept riveting back. I tried to draw, doodle, sketch but no I just lost the will. Will. Maybe that's it.
Will that had kept me sedated. Infertile, oblivious to the succubus. I guess this loss of will had somehow drove my mind to atrophy. This is not giving up on life. This is to go with the currents and receive what the waters gave me. But sometimes, you have to fight the current to get to your destination. For my case, the water dumped me into the bog feasted on by leeches. Lethargy comes and smother me slowly, until I no more become a piece of wallflower.
Perks of being a wallflower my ass.
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