This morning I woke up and I switched on the light above my head. I rolled over and checked the time. I realized I must have slept through my alarm. Inconsequential since I had nowhere to be.
I opened a book and I sat still for an hour reading about the adventures of two people who are learning important life lessons. I went upstairs and I drank a cup of black coffee and ate a piece of toast.
I read for awhile longer and then I ate Chinese food out of paper containers. I sat on my stoop and waited for my brother to depart from the bus. Together we sat in the sun for a little while as he asked me why the leaves have to fall off the trees. He ate spirals of bologna and watched cartoons while I attempted to finish a crossword puzzle.
I crossed my legs on the couch and tried to plow on with my book but I stopped myself. I am frustrated. I feel as if I'm doing nothing, but nothing by who's standards? I feel inactive, but not in the physical sense. I know that I DO things, but I am plagued by the restless feeling that I am not DOING anything.
I suppose a certain degree of uncertainty is good, but for how much longer will I feel this... displaced?
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