It’s strange that I don’t want to write. I feel totally blank, like I have been wiped clean. All I want to do is lie on my bed with the fan going, watching the hanging pothos wave in the breeze. All I want to do is come home from work and sit at the kitchen table watching YouTube videos on my phone. To do my chores to podcasts. To talk to friends, or not to talk to them exactly but to make time for them, though I also feel like I don’t have as much time for them as I’d like…

Right now I don’t know who I am or what I’m making time for. In this mood I feel as light and empty as a breeze. I am someone who likes to work, to push themselves, to feel accomplishment. I need that to feel like I’m who I am. But instead I’m floating along, aimlessly, wondering when my feet are going to again touch the ground.

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