Lay About.

I lay there, feeding on YouTube video after YouTube video. Gorging myself on my echo chambers while my aching head did just that – ache.

The day felt wasted, with no real reflection or lesson learned. Just other people's streams of consciousness injected into my eyeballs to numb my discomfort.

The lines are wafer thin between insightful boredom, creative depth, and chloroform for the soul.

Moving was not an option. The familiar comfort of my home created a need to stagnate for the day. I believe the common term is "bed rotting".

Do I now declare that this is enough – no more lying about? Or does placing this demand on me dictate how I see living a life of personal excavation? Perhaps the odd day of bed rotting is a sign that even in personal effort to let go of everything, I have to honour the fact that, at times, things still have a hold of me.

This is all part of the wider unfolding of a life I am now living.