I do not know what to write. 

I do not know what to read.

I do not know what to do.

It seems like lately everything is just so meaningless. What I fear the most is losing the little interest I have with writing, but at the same time I don't want to force myself to write because it doesn't feel pure. I've been going through the routines of life regular adults endure, and it is killing my spirit. I feel like my job kills off every single brain cell I have, and I feel incredibly useless. I feel like every time I pick up a book that genuinely sparked my interest, I find it hard to finish because I just lack the energy or the interest in pursuing leisure; it just feels like I have no time for myself anymore. 

I have so many ideas floating around in my head, but it seems like I have no where to go. 

* Originally posted on dysfunctionalwithasideofanxiety.wordpress.com

Published by Angel Victorio