This wreckage that is my life. I just want to throw my hands in the air, but I lack the strength to even do that. The void around me presses inwards, pins me down. How is it that emptiness can feel this heavy. This feeling… it is not new. I have been here before, and it will pass. I just have to wait it out.
I play the guitar. Write some poetry. Down a beer. Nothing works. I blame the moon, the alignment of the stars. I rationalise it all. Surely there is something to be learned from this pain.
I wait for the universe re-arrange itself. For life to deliver its lesson. For time to move.
The weight lifts. I am released. I burst forth with new resolve, cutting and slashing. The stagnance; it was not merely a pause, but a breather.