somuchrain

Im tired. Im tired of everything I do feeling like an uphill battle against money, against memory, against my own better judgment. Im just tired. Im tired of communication and of the lack of communication. The other night, like a switch was hit, I went into a hibernation of sorts. I dont feel any differently about my life or anything in it, but all I want is to sit in a cool room and read. Im tired of writing and deadlines. I want to work my crap job and make some money without any plans or stresses for a while.

Ive a dozen rolls of undeveloped film full of pictures of things that dont exist anymore.

There isnt a metaphor for it in all my encyclopedia of clich, from Shakespeare to Winterson. Its a combination of something pushing down on my stomach and the sudden heaviness when you become aware of your own weight after all the water has drained out of a bath. Theres no more buoyancy and I cant inhale.