There's nothing like the seasonal slump. The sky seems foggier, the air seems more polluted, and the days drag on like a timeless universe. Or maybe it's just me. After a few weeks of dismal proportions and a conscious hiatus, I've decided to claw myself back into literary civilization. I must admit, it wasn't easy and it took almost every ounce of my effort, but I think I'm finally back. Well, for now at least.
However, this mental self-diagnosis didn't occur overnight. It took days of observation and countless hours of analysis to discover what was actually wrong with me. I'm at a stand-still. While I originally thought time was moving forward with me along for the ride, it seems time actually decided to leave me far behind. Waiting -- hoping -- needing some sort of change that will finally shake me from this common day monotony.
I know, I know. At twenty-four, I shouldn't expect much, if anything, to go exactly how I originally planned (especially in this industry, right?). However, it seems like the "routine" of my life has taken over any spontaneity and I feel trapped. Yes, trapped. I'm stuck in this dark corner where the realm of possibilities seem distant and the Groundhog Day effect seems inevitable.
Therefore, before I let this disorder get the best of me, I've decided to write myself my own prescription. A prescription that will allow me to break free from this entanglement and into something more fulfilling. A prescription that inspires instead of hinders. And finally, a prescription that involves some huge life changes (both professionally and personally) that will ultimately change me into the person I want to become.
I mean, I've come this far, right? What's another 50+ years?