I am not learning anything new. I feel like a lamb to a slaughter; just waiting for time to go by. The organ in my head is dead... heading for the meatboard. I have a surrounding that is equally mediocre, that compliments my sad state. I am crouching on the edge of the parapet looking down in the flame pit that starts from a few hundred metres below the edge. The glow from the fire illuminates my face which betrays the stagnant state in which I am in right now. I am so close to crying but can't because crying won't fix it. This is not an emotional problem, it's a problem that deals with my existence, the obsolete state in which my creative potential lies in right now. I lean forward and drop into the fire...


I drop right through the flames. I am now floating in a cool dark space where I can see the blanket of flame above me through which I plummeted for a few hours. I don't have the body I had. I am a smoke like entity now. Amazingly I can still feel the sensations I did when I was human. I feel the cool air around me, the peace I was bereft of. I am suddenly in full view of all existence, each looking at me and questioning, now what. The air pocket that held me up gives in and I drop again...


I am looking at the keyboard. I'm staring at the letter 'J'. January is when I will start my French classes. That's when I will finally do something worthwhile; learn something new. This therapy better work. If not, it will be time for drastic measures.