Days move slowly, I sit in my chair staring at ‘work’. The dull gray of the day seeps into everything. The screen in front of me illuminates the stagnant space in which I spend hour after hour. I am always waiting. Time is always my enemy.
I wait for love, I wait for happiness, I wait for the next distraction, anything that can take me away from this dull inescapable life.
The wait is always torture, I say to myself ‘only so many days left, only so many hours’ or ‘tomorrow it will be better, next week will be better, next year will be better’. Problems persist and my life goes on, unchanging. ‘Tomorrow will be better’.
I sit here, waiting, the next distraction is only ‘a month, a week, a day’ away. Upon arrival my life will change, the grey will be replaced by vibrance and colour will come back into my world.
Alas, it never does.
I sit here, waiting, once again finding myself staring, this time at paper instead of a glaring screen. Distractions abound and I cannot remember my purpose. My hand moves of its own volition. The pencil dashing across the page, white pristine paper replaced by lines of grey. An image begins to form, my mind awakening from slumber. Excitement sparks through my limbs. I am creating!
The wait is over.