I have.

Ever have those times where you have a book trapped in your brain that's chewing on your insides but your body is too numb to notice?
"Everything that's to be written, already has been" I remind myself, thus encouraging the lethargy that got me so far.
Sinking further and further into the weight of my own inaction, a vicious cycle that.
My lips mouth the words "times will change", not even half convincing myself that they will.

I'm susceptible to too many things and every dock I anchor myself to blows away with the first storm that shows up, even me.

Have you looked around then? wondering if this was meant to be?
if this was who you were intended to become? if this was the life that did justice to the journey that you were on all this while?

I have.