Ceaseless...

Words I have come to like lately:
-realignment
-accept
-self-regulation
-literate
-exist
-sterile
-cohabit
-tolerance
-oldhat
-damage
-vacancy
-famine
-nonsense
-volatile
-negligence
-entirety
-abort
-device
-dead
-threshold
-spent

They all have certain beings, objects, and senses in common. I feel like I have fortunately found time to rid myself of my thoughts, and the only thing that seems to come out are the scribblings from my little leather bound book that mean nothing to no one, not even myself. It is raining, the sky gray, and my eyes are tired already of holiday cheer. I am starving, my bank balance wanning, and my body exhausted from effort of pleasing others in every environment I know. Work, school, home, familial relations. All seem tireless and I don't feel much response from any of the student bodies I speak to. Corpses maybe, and similarly I seem to wake inside such a skull every morning. Dead to all, even my own passions and dull emotion. There is no saving this, no tide to wash it clean. No variety of medications or books, stories, films, or journeys which will clear this mind of mine. I simply need to be, and sit in the piles of filth that occupy my apartment and vehicle, and wallow in what I have created. Scraps of everything from bank receipts to food containers surround me, and the wasteland that is...is unforgiving. I never fail to make myself alien in my own home. It is because of this that I abandon all hope and generally push everything out of my own reach, hoping that such things will return to me with joy. There is none. I do not mean to sound depressed, for I am not. I am quaint, happy, and overall accomplished. But the things that come with such feelings result in the previously mentioned emotions. I feel stranded, and no one seems willing to help. Maybe I have not asked politely enough, or have failed to make a signal of distress. My smoke clouds not vast enough, my pleas not heard. I need some real time for Jordan!

H.E.L.P.