i woke up a specter of my former self
a hollow casting that used to be filled
with promise and ambition
that slowly faded away as i sat fixed
upon the chair which bore my name

strangely intangible
the feeling of having woken up ready
able to take on what's coming head on
and it's now barely a memory
as i quietly make my coffee in the dark

i am not ready now
to be filled with indifference and hardened disposition
cold and unfeeling i must lurch forward
until i reach my destination with reluctance
a way to keep myself alive

so only that i might find it again
and remember what it was like to be filled with light
to do whatever it is that i may please
in pursuit of the entirely superfluous
the lighthearted and the lazy
******* I miss the weekend