One of those contemplative days. Sitting here in the dark, being tired and feeling sorry for myself, so nothing quite out of the ordinary. Usual day, as they say, or rather, as I say.

I’m tired. I’m tired and I’m worn out, and that is in part due to having a really rough sleep and having been awake for nearly twelve hours now. Fun times. Gut is upset, so I’ve got a whole lot of feeling bad and mixed with the regular feeling bad, it’s not good.

But I’m sitting here and I have this spare time, and instead of doing anything with it, I’m moaning. I’m crapping on about something that doesn’t matter, but at least right now it matters a lot. It matters more than anything, and this feeling like shit is just beating myself down in a way, but it’s difficult to not do when I feel as though time is slipping through my fingers and I cannot do much about it other than, you know, rest.

So resting is what I’m doing and doing rest is what I do well, but I need something else to happen, because there’s not much else I can do other than type some words and stare at the ceiling, and I’ve done enough of that in my life to know it’s not something I want to do much of at this point. Staring, feeling paralytic, unable to do much of anything, getting lost in my own headspace… I’m good. I’ve been there and I don’t want to go back there right now.

So I’m listening to music and I’m letting it sink in, and I’m taken back to feelings that circle me more often than I’d like to admit, and I’m feeling sad. I’m feeling downbeat, and I’m feeling as though, perhaps, something deep inside is in the process of being upwelled; of being dredged out, but today it doesn’t hurt as much as it normally would.

I’m listening to this song, and inside I’m going “Fuck…” because it grips onto something deep inside, and, well, it’s not as though I can just resist it. So I have to give in and I have to let myself feel like shit and feel overwhelmed and overcome, and looking into a distance.

And of course that distance lies beyond the ceiling.

I’ve spent a lot of time staring at the ceiling, and I want to write about that some point; not now. But it’s perhaps important to recognise as a thing that happens as right now I’m just tired and wrecked, and I’m going to the bathroom far more than I’d like and there’s little I can do about it, but I can reflect and I can think about what choices have led to this.

I don’t know what choices led to my gut deciding that I wouldn’t get much sleep and instead of sleep I’d have a fun time going back and forth between the bed and the bathroom.

So… it’s still all rest. It’s all rest and listening to music that destroys me or some dramatic nonsense, and I sit here and wait and hope that my gut settles so I can get on with the day, but I don’t know when it will and I don’t know if I can, so I’ve just got to keep on sitting here and keep on resting and take it easy for the rest of the afternoon.

There are things that I want to finish writing about, and these past few days have not been as productive as I’d have liked. Such is the way of life, I suppose, but I really need to get moving. I’ve only so much time and I need to make sure I’m actually making the most of it. But I’m drained and I’m staring off into distances and looking beyond horizons, and I’m reevaluating my life once more, trying to find where the cracks are and how they came to be. Trying to work out what I want to be doing with my time, because time is all I have and I’d like to not be squandering it.