slap me awake. i am half in sleeping. the strange warmth of this november evening is making me uneasy in my skin. there is moisture in the air and it rests heavy on my body. i lay here looking up my ceiling thinking, what am i missing?
there is that pile of work on the bed beside me, it needs to be done but i cannot seem to summon the energy to open the books and begin. i know it will lay there until tomorrow, until i find the enthusiasm. i shift and lay on my left side. there is the television and i am looking at my reflection on the gray screen. i need a haircut, my locks are too long. so heavy when its wet, it is cumbersome. why am i wasting here?
i see me blinking at myself. i lift the corners of my lips and pout. then smile. then pout. then smile. i laugh at myself. but being silly cannot seem to dispel the sense of not...being well. i raise my right hand to touch my hair. it feels smooth to the touch and i am pleased. i smile again, but the fleeting second of pleasure doesn't quite reach my eyes. i see.
should i turn it on? and unthinkingly spend the evening flipping through channels again? like last night. like the previous nights before. i am bored out of my wits. and yet, lethargy has set in and has made camp in my body. it is not going away until i am jolted back into the exigencies of reality. work, school, work, school. i am swimming in monotony. will i ever succumb to drowning?
i am tanned from the weekend under the sun. i move my hand away from playing with my locks and slide it down my neck. moist. a thin film of sweat. my index finger makes its way downwards and feels my pulse. i am alive by all means. bored witless, adrift and lonely, but alive.