Mood

Days where I go to bed feeling the hours were wasted. Days where I feel useless, stuck in a script I didn't write, and lacking the initiative to redesign the parts I can change. I feel scorn for myself, on these days.

Just down, tonight. Unhappy, dark. Yes, dark--that's a good way to describe it. After days without people, nights without sleep, mornings without excitement, and sleep without dreams, I'm darkness and restlessness. I'm a nightmare waiting to saunter through the fractured fragments of the next few hours. I'm dissatistifaction and anger simmering over the last chapter of a book I've been looking forward to reading, and raging with the feelings it evoked. I'm a deep hunger to connect and see, be seen, be heard beyond the superficial. And I'm solitary, matching my surroundings to myself.

I am all of these emotions, and more beyond naming. And at the end of it, I am simply tired, and unwilling to fall asleep alone in an empty room.