my coughing echoes in this cluttered room. i am stuck in what my therapist calls an emotional paralysis. the state of my bedroom directly reflects that of my mind. clothing and possessions piled up and up on top of one another. i don't even bother to see what i'm stepping on anymore. everything is flattened and muffled.

however there's a certain sense of acceptance, or patience. waiting for the sort of fix i need.