The Mists of Being
Walking to the station lost in thoughts.
A useless collection of ideas and emotions swirl around me,
and I gradually tune out even those.
Leaving a vague existence between aware and asleep.
Time and life drift by and it’s a comfortable place.
Arriving at a destination without knowing anything of the time in-between.
That time. Gone.
What is happening to me?
Life dripping away.
The less effort I put in the easier it gets,
and less satisfying.