spark-less

i remain uninspired. as much as i wish for a bolt of lightning to brilliantly illuminate my life, and to jumpstart my soul (or brain), the lightning persists in its absence and i remain a lost and lone traveller sitting in my corner drawing angel after angel in the dark, blinded by the repetition of my ever continuing circle of mundane actions.

i long for a vacuum in which to be allowed to simply rattle about in my cluttered head, to unpick the threaded knots and to decide what i actually think. i have a desire to KNOW everything and yet i lack the will to learn. The Unbearable Lightness sits unfinished alongside countless other half-read and discarded books despite the fact the i yearn to read each and every page of each and every book in the growing pile next to my bed.

all i want right now is to quit my job, to retreat into my room and to hibernate until my mind can catch up with me. the life of a hermit beckons with an intensity unlike any other. although i must admit that once james has left, i will feel bereaved and abandoned; of this i am entirely certain.

i suppose i must simply plod along and have faith that the lightning will strike. please please please may it strike.