My confusion fog is self induced. Self perpetuated. Self maintained.
Its time to bring out the big fans.
Time to blow it all away.
This cold feeling I have in the pit of my stomach is compounded by the hot burn of my heart.
Ever existant. Ever burning. Ever fluctuating.
I'll figure it out. I will. I will not however, ignore it nor myself.
As my eyelids grow heavy and my body slumps under the weight of my thoughts,
My legs still wearily push forward.
Until I find myself face down in a poppy field covered with the soft snow of sleep.
Dreaming of my life with no fog.
If only I could remember these dreams when I come to.
After a soft white feline has nuzzled me back into the land of the living.
And I can feel the clash of elements in my body once more.
No one said that working for clarity would be easy.
No one said anything about ease at all.
Perhaps that is because such a word is non existant in its literal application in this living of life