Mellowing in bliss, I´m not here nor there.
I am numb, devoid of drive, extinguished of bittersweet flavours.
My will is disolved, I depend on a force no greater than my own.
Without discomfort I seek nothing better, without stress I build no resilience.
Nothing to push me, no proper heading, no way to go forward.
I'm a speck of dust drifting through the air.
Sleep I am, and was, no more.
A beauty sleep that turned into a nightmare, a stagnant dream where I run in circles.
I fall and get up, and then fall and get up, and so it goes forever.
I fumble once, and twice, and thrice, wasting time, it humours me no more.
A plain and boring life this daze has built, a plain and boring life that I resigned into.
Stagnant, my reality is, until I choose to face my demons, shake things up, and drop the habits that restraint me.
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