Journal #303

It’s a mess like big bang.

An intimidating force from the shadows beat me up good.

A series of old and soulful sounds, so heavenly.

But angry at seemingly everything, sick of everything.

Wanting to snap and bite but fully aware it’s all me.

Holding back with as much energy as neutron star;

I go about my day, silent as a mouse stealing food.

Incapable of converting potential energy to kinetic, tasks remain still.

Try big tasks, break it. Try small tasks, feel meaningless and break it.

Dejection; nothing work, no light on this dark road.

Sound the retreat trumpet, enter the world of words and moving pictures.

Words and moving pictures that take me far from reality.

Work it does not.

Remain energy-less and watch the world go by.

Feel guilty for no accomplishment with deadline loom.

And it’s far from over.