progress report

warning: wallowing.

restless restless. i open and close tabs on my computer like i'm going to find something new. i pull old books off my shelves and cry over the endings. i listen to a three-song loop over and over while staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out if i can write anything other than bad poetry anymore.

rush rush. i feel like i never have a moment to breathe. i work, and then i go to work, and then i get home and have to work some more. weekenda are an escape but monday mornings come too quickly and i have to take as deep a breath as i can and plunge in again. stolen moments typing up a storm, sneaking a look at a page, watching a 30 second youtube video. i feel like i'm never gonna slow down.

reminisce. i'm not even gone yet but i'm already missing everything. always weigh what i got against what i left. i don't want to pack everything up again. i don't want to trade emerald waves for muddier waters. i know that everything is going to be fine, but i feel like i'm watching life pass by from the bottom of a well. just waiting for the kaleidoscope to turn.