Crawling From Hole to Hole

Looking out one foggy window, clearing it. Moving onto the next, clearing that, and then moving onto the next which is a mirror. Moving onto the next, then the next, then back again to old windows and mirrors sometimes, until I die.

I can't see clearly, sometimes I can't see at all. Emotions and physical reactions are imminent yet buried. Everything is so repetitive. I've seen everything a million times.

Feels like you're riding in a car, constantly jostling from the rocks the wheels drive over. You get used to it, you fall asleep.

I fall asleep a lot.

Faces look the same, phases feel the same, love does not feel new anymore. How many times can it happen? We should all be prudes. It's so much better.

I guess, to put it simply, it's numbness.

It's death of the spirit. It is the mindset of people before submitting to drug addiction or other forms of hedonistic self destruction.

It's bad, but motivational philosophies can only shock you so many times.

I roll into nothingness blindly.