Tired and exhausted where there seems no where to turn for rest. If I stop, nothing will get done. If I continue, I will never be done, and get sick trying. Weekends away seem to help, it's just getting there and back that can be tiresome after awhile, though unnoticed at the time. I like accomplishing things. It's when the accomplished turns right back around that things become fustrating. What's the point of trying when trying ends right back up at nothing, yet again? I'm drained and there is no visible end.
If I'm not social, I feel utterly disconnected, which at the time would be great, but later might hurt as done before. I need a time which isn't restricted. I need a space that isn't cluttered with the world. I need to be free, without the view of the fence that holds me to my obligations. My mind is always thinking, and I don't know what it's thinking about. My thoughts are giving me messages, and my body is too tired to transcribe them to me. I want to sit by the water, bask in the warm sunshine with the autumn air soaring around me, with a book in my hand as I am cozied up, serene, with not a care in the world but on how the book will end. If not, then please, let me dance in the rain. I just want peace!
Jailbird.
