Strange Light

I sit here, under an eerie half light, waiting for my posts to post, wondering how this is happening. My stomach turns again, for no apparent reason, then lets out a grunt of disdain for my contant abuse. Laziness prevents me from changing the bulb. Gluttony made me eat that second cookie. Malaise keeps me from going to bed. But I am already there.

This is a strange light, a strange night, a strange fight. My stomach agrees sorrowfully. The hollow ping of something unidentified outside is becoming increasingly bothersome. Just like this light seems to be casting its pekid shadow across a mood that might otherwise be described as boredom. But it is not boredom. There is restlessness. There is resentment. There is fear. There is distress. There is disappointment. There is fatigue. There is an overwhelming desire to throw in the towel and admit defeat. To everything. I am defeated by my heart, by my ambition, by my blood and my standards and my own lofty expectations of what is supposed to happen from one second to the next. Tick. Tock. Two more seconds gone.

The whirr of my computer serves to remind me that something here is moving, but not going anywhere. These mechanisms only serve to cool the engine and prevent total meltdown. Like this light on this night as I wonder about a strange sense of melancholy; my fan is cooling off the parts that burn as they turn and twist and fidget into a chatty frenzy. Chit. Chat. Silence.