Today I am Claustrophobic. Not in the "my cubicle walls are closing in on me" kind of way, but in the "Please Stop Invading my personal mental space!" kind of way. It's like I've confined my mind to a very small box and I just want to break out of that box. Like my creativity and personality are suffocating in this tiny little coffin, desperately seeking fresh air. As though, if my thoughts continue to breathe the same recycled air, I might eventually fall asleep and never wake.
I feel that I may need to dance this out. My lungs need to crack and break until I can feel that fresh reality of pain or newness seep so deeply into my veins that I have that moment in which I look back at the old stagnancy and sigh a huge sigh of relief that I am no longer dwelling in what was.
I am antsy.
I am dissatisfied.
I am horribly bored.
Mostly though, I'm just done with this. And I don't even know what this is.
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