I'd like to imagine that there's a demon living inside my room right now. Just because coming up with any external factor to blame is far easier than confronting the possibility that an internal struggle might be at play.
I call them the Boredom Demon.
For whatever reason, living inside the room feels very inertial. Seems like I would never have the energy to do anything, to come up with any ideas whatsoever. Back then, cooped up inside my dorm room, I could make the place mine. I was happy, I was content. But not anymore, not here.
Being alone here feels like a prison of mind. It's a difficult situation to describe, but despite all the comfortable features of the room, I could never make it my 'home'. My brain doesn't work, and it keeps screaming for me to get out of there, even though my body and all my senses are real content there.
It seems like a bad Feng Shui is at play there.
Ridiculous, I know.
But I really need to blame my new room for everything. For the reason I'm constantly unsatisfied, uninspired, un-energized, unwilling, unhappy. Weird, I know.
I feel like I have to make a total change of the room for it to make sense for my brain.
Right now I don't even have the strength to form a coherent passage, or even care whether this narrative make any sense whatsoever. I'm sorry.
