I almost feel completely crazy.
Lately, sleeping has become a complete chore. During the day I feel half alive, sitting on edge of a shelf waiting for the slightest movement to break my glassy exterior.
Days are moving by without my recognition, it feels as if there are large gaps in between rather than taking notice of a progressive aging. Sometimes I want to stay exactly where I am in order to grow and other times I want to rip my tiny roots from the ground and change location to a climate that I may not be very well acclimated to.
Things are starting to feel empty, motionless, lacking color. I need something to ignite me again. I need my flame. I'm crossing my fingers, squeezing my eyes tightly shut.
There are wizards of the world.
Show me, I'm thirsty for some mystic.
