I feel like saying something but I don't know what to say. Fingers poised over the keyboard, but with nothing precise to write; I can only expect a jumbling stream of incoherent babble. Sometimes it really sickens and wearies me that eloquence only rears its thoughtful face when I'm harbouring some tremor of sadness. But in plateaued phases, I have nothing to say, nothing to write, no concrete line of thought, even when I feel like simply... talking.
I don't even have anything important to say, I never do these days; it's more like casual mindless chatter, like getting out on a warm balmy day.

Of course there are more pressing matters that are screaming for my attention:
- Crim assignment (haven't started, oops)
- Notes for crim procedure and legal theory
- Financial management revision

I haven't done any of the above, and I blame it on this sticky indulgence that seems to be permeating the air with muted indolence, pervading my senses, rendering it perfectly okay to be thinking about which book to read, which series to watch, even when there's a pile of unfinished work stashed at the back of my head.

aghhaghaghhh!