Muse

It was a tremulous feeling to have so many unsifted thoughts running through your mind. They kept you in jitters and gave the illusion that your heart is racing though it's pacing normally. It's just strange, how it comes and go and caught you off guard every now and then without reason.

I hate that a lot of things are without reason these days.

But I don't like giving reasons sometimes. So I suppose I have no grounds to whine about it. Annoying. But I could live with it. There's actually a lot of things I should be doing but just don't feel like it.

I'm building houses and plucking pictures instead. Cooking up a dream sounds more superliciously interesting than running a survey or waking to a hurdling commitment. The babies no longer fascinates. The morning sun no long brings about freshness. I'm tired. And cranky. And needy. And listless, restless, everything less.

The room is choking, but I can't summon that much energy to make it spit me out. The bones are moaning in protest. So? I still don't get up. Salmon and soups are swimming in my head but when I stand in the kitchen, it's just looked at me and said, "Get out!". So I got out, all dolled out and scented. Keys checked, Mac checked. So where are we heading they asked.

Dunno. Coffeebean or Starbucks? "Coffeebean!" they chorused in unison. Okays then. Same order, same table, same routine. Tumblr, facebook, mail and music. The textbooks made an appearance once in a while. They placate the rumbling, unsettled emotion. But never for long. And its everyday everyday affair.

So what went wrong? Where did it went wrong? Who made that wrong turn? When did all my routine no longer serves as my panacea? Why now? How did I get thrown back into my own hellhole? Windowless, unfamiliar and insubstantial.

I don't want to go back for my prescription.