beneath a little raincloud.

I'm in no shape to write. The words come out in sluggish lifeless groupings - lackluster and burdensome. It seems its all that way today, yesterday, the day before too.

I hold steadfast to some commitments but not without complaint, and others live only in the carnage of failed attempts. Some temptation is so alluring [I'll whine later about the end results of temporary pleasure]. I've talked myself into a slump, a low spot, a gray place, if you will. My words cannot rightly articulate a thought and the threads stretch beyond their giving abilities to hold together. I need a change of face...a brightening of heart. I need this week to be over, for some anticipations cause a soul to weaken. I yearn for the climax so I can again breathe and the minutes, the dragging, slothful minutes, to MOVE.

I think I'm going to bed...