I woke up this morning, like every other morning, groggy and still tired. I, as I have come to find out, am not a morning person. But after the haze wears off, or I force myself to get going, or am forced to get going by some commitment in my life, I tend to have a short window of lucidity. If I’m lucky it will happen more than once in the day, such as now in the middle of the early morning as I sit quietly in the lonely confines of my apartment bathed by the bright light coming from my kitchen. It’s a time of stillness and mental abandon from the irrelevant thoughts that race through my mind. I don’t think of the next show I will binge watch. I stop thinking of the constant urge to have a snack to fill the time. I forget the lonely thoughts and feelings that I am failing.
In these moments I am filled with hope framed with purpose. The thoughts of how it could be, how it should be, and how it will be. I will be better. I will improve. I will clean my fucking kitchen. I will lose that goddamn weight. I will live and love with energy and swift action. And then the haze returns as the next episode begins or the start of the workday commences and I find myself back in the machine as I try to grasp at my potential as it slowly slips away, crushed by the weight of my unfulfilled life.
How do I begin? Or better yet, how will this end?