There is so much that I want to do. But I am tired. Tired. Tired doesn’t feel like strong enough a word. I am exhausted, deflated, broken down and burnt-out. I am an empty tank, a cracked glass which leaks water faster than it can be filled. I am a shaking breath, being drawn into a lung and held before submerging, the water around me threatening at every moment to overwhelm me. I am a dark day, and a dark night that never seems to end. I am an eternity, or a moment of insignificance in a day of expectation. I am tired. Oh, how many ways are left to say? I am tired.
Original Picture Taken: Stirlingshire, Scotland (November 2008) ©DSCoremans
Happy Writing. Stay Safe. Stay Distracted.