effluent.

I feel... constipated. Nor physically of course... More like mentally and emotionally.
I find myself caught in a enclosure of sorts, mentally ad emotionally deliminated by parameters unknown. There is an underlying feeling of gloom, doom and pent-up-ness. I have much to do, but I chose not to. I have much to ponder, yet I chose to ignore. And it drags on the mind though I have kept it off the slates. The neverending sense that SOMETHING needs to be done plagues me like a sore pus-filled wound whereever I go, whatever I do. It is like a ticking time bomb that threatens to blow at any time, with deadlines and schedules.

I guess I make a very poor vacationer. I can never truly abandon my duties at the door and lept into freedom. I always carry the baggage and badge of work with me as I go. If you done see it, it is probably hidden somewhere, but out of sight but never out of mind. sigh...

And though my body had been getting the rest, my mind has not, and it is SO SO SO tired. It seeked refuge from the fluffiness of drinks, and it tried to hide by sleeping the day away. So tightly wound even when I no longer need to, I try to fuill my "freeness" with things to do. Like how sad is that?

And even as I live through this "freeness", I choose to flee from legitimate work, legitimae duties and what nots. My bow has laid to rust, my research undone, and marketing a sideline... What am I doing? Escaping from work to freedom I am unaccustomed to. Why could I not just slack in peace? Sigh....