I'm restless in a very strange way. Restless for change, restless to change. But all this while comfortable with this disconcerting inertia that has become a routine now. It's inertia and it's disconcerting. And I've become comfortable in it. There are so many bundles of contradiction I'm surrounded by right now and this is just one of them.
No, I'm now wallowing in self pity or telling everyone life sucks. I'm just evaluating and organizing and then re-evaluating.
I want to shut myself up. Actually I've already done that. Shut myself up in the comfort of my living room and some mindless television and when the thoughts become too many to contain, I begin to write.
But it all seems very purposeless lately- the writing, the thinking, the going crazy.
I know these moments of wanting to be a social recluse are common and happen to most of us. But what I'm not prepared to handle is the situation when the moments reach a frequency that makes them a phase and the phase reaches enough consistency to become a routine. A routine you badly want out of but can't seem to find a way out.