The solitude of The cramping sultry warmth fills my soul...Outside blows a powerful lusty,yet unthreatening wind...It is cool
and soothing,however...Somehow,as it blows my hair askew,I feel at peace,It's power calms my frayed nerves,a gust of particular strength hits me
I go back in...All alone in my home..My mum's away...I don't quite know how I got this way..Tired..Not physically,but a sort of languor that acts
As a soporific on my corporeal existence...I feel half-dead,Yet would not change my position In the least..Slumped against my side-pillow,
with a perturbation eating away at me..something's undone..But I don't know quite what...Nothing's undone..But why that niggle in my stomach?
Why do I feel I have nowhere to go...Trapped...Trapped where? In my own Home? My own body? My own existence...?
I make to shut the windows and doors,put out the light,Maybe some sleep will do away with this? Perhaps...Perhaps not...I wake,every day,renewed
-Not In Freshness,But In doubt,in that all-pervading sense of loss,of belonging nowhere,of existing,and not existing...
I Lean against the wooden door and Watch the red clouds gather...Heaven's Angry pout..An Omen...Yes,I can sense it..A storm is coming........
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