Meaningless Unmitigated Bleat.

I hate wasted days, but they have befallen me.
I am not acquiring any knowledge and I feel I am letting myself down. Traces of the sickness still remain reminding me to take it easy or pay the consequences. I don't feel like reading any casefiles, I've even avoided my serial killer novels, if I'm not in the mood I wont remember it and will no doubt have to reread it later. I find myself painting and watching worn out DVD's.

I hate being unproductive and yet I can't bring myself to do something about it. Idleness tires me, I want to be achieving some purpose, but alas there are other things to consider.

I have resorted to letting my imagination run wild with thoughts of adventure, I may be stuck here but my mind can be free.

I find myself outside, it's warm, night but still warm. I just stare at the water. What thoughts are going through my head? I'm not sure, they are part of the subconscious now.

The water is of the most beautiful blue. If I let myself I could easily fall deep into it's receding depths and be free. To float down into oblivion, I wonder what it would be like.

The longer I watch the more intoxicated I become, drunk on the beauty of nature. The colors of the water change, it rises up out of the pool like a tidal wave and it holds that position above my head as I look on in awe and amazement. Colors shoot through it, so many that half of them have not even been named yet and the whole sky is glowing from their radiance.

I step back, it's all in my head, I have a great imagination and it's trying to inspire me, nothing more. The water goes back down into the pool, the sky returns to it's original hue and it is as it was, as if nothing had ever happened. I sit back down by the water and stare. Not long after the water begins to turn red, the red of blood, then I see him. So faint at first that I swear it is surely my imagination, but he comes into focus and there he is drowning in my pool beckoning for me to help him. I want to reach out, to save him, but I know he isn't really there, he can't be. The one soul I could ever love is drowning before me and I can't tell if it's real. Do I save him and risk the chance of drowning or do I let him die and risk the possibility of loosing my one chance of happiness.

The dichotomy, like many in life there remains no easy out. They say drowning is a painless death, but for some reason I fear drowning the most, I've always feared it, I've nearly drowned so many times that it terrifies me, I know it will get me in the end. A bullet to the head would be better, would be painless. So looking at this from a logical perspective to get the one soul I desire more than life itself I would have to be willing to give up everything and face my greatest fear. I am willing, but if I gave up my life I wouldn't get him.

I guess it wouldn't matter as long as I got to save him, the one who holds the other half of my soul.

See where idleness gets me, writing meaningless unmitigated bleat.