In Moratorium

So, it’s been a while. It seems that writing, along with many other things in my life, has been put on hold for a while. I’ve been noticing that I haven’t been doing much at all lately. I go to class, I do my work, I participate in the occasional social outing, but I’m not really there for any of it. At some points in my life I’ve been given to occasional intervals of introspection. Taking a brief hiatus to ruminate and reorganize. However, it has come to my attention that this is not one of those times. During those periods I’m merely too withdrawn into my own thoughts to make proactive decisions, but as it turns out, this time I’m not there either. I’m somewhere else, I think about nothing, I plan for nothing, I’m just growing stagnate.

I wish I were here to tell you that I’ve realized this, and that I’ve made a decision to move on. Unfortunately, I don’t know what to move on to. For the life of me, I don’t know what I want, or where I want to be, much less how to go about fulfilling those desires. I’m living by rote, simple subsistence. At first I thought I was just taking a break, seeking rest. I’ve been through a pretty rough New Year, pushed in and weighed down on multiple sides. I thought I was just letting myself adjust. However, as far as I can tell, I’m settled on those matters. I’ve addressed and come to terms with all the stressors I can identify, and I quickly resolved what I could, and ridded myself of what I couldn't change. Reason would dictate that I should be well on my way back to normal. I should be pretty close to living how I used to live, sure I had my worries, but I was happy, at least relatively. I’m not happy now. I’m not sad either. I’m not angry, I’m not pensive, I’m just here. I don’t believe one can live in total pervasive apathy. Everyone has to feel something, and certainly I do. Perhaps “melancholic” is the word I’m looking for. I don’t know. I’m stuck in some indefinite state of suspended action, idling away, snared in some perpetual ennui. I’m not sure how to go about remediating this. I’m not sure where it began, or where I should look to begin. They say time heals all wounds, but conversely it is also said that time destroys all things. I’m not sure where I need to go from here, or where I’ll end up, and I suppose only time will tell. So, I guess all I can do is keep waiting around for me to stop waiting around.