---
layout:	post
title:	"The lights are on but nobody is home…"
date:	2018-01-17
---

  ![](/img/1*w0SAJIGefjLpGL009swquA.jpeg)Photo by [Nicolai Fedderholdt](https://unsplash.com/photos/jJe9bx5uh-8?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText) on [Unsplash](https://unsplash.com/search/photos/clouds?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText)I’ve been stuck lately. Stuck looking [back at the past](https://medium.com/frenetic-scribblings/i-dont-want-1f1f484de4a9).

Just now I caught myself being…bored. Not something that I’m used to. I always have something to be doing. Or at least to be thinking about. And its not as if I don’t have any of those things anymore. I just seem to be experiencing a lapse in the will behind them. Boredom because I don’t *want to do anything, *not because I have *nothing to do*.

I’ve decided to call this place of the mind Limbo.

Not dark, nor light. Just grey. Not happy, nor sad. Just average.

Not **anything**.

I’d rather hurt than be here. I’ll take darkness over grey listlessness any day. To hurt means to feel something, and that’s better than *nothing*. A storm is better than strangling mist, as it were.

I get the sense that to spend too long here would drive anyone insane. I also get the sense for someone like me…that it would take hold quicker than most. Someone eternally busy — always thinking, feeling, doing — will not survive long in the Land of the Nothing.

Fortunately, I doubt that my theory will be tested. No doubt like a *grey* cloud in the wind, this strange not-time will soon pass. In the meantime, I will continue to gaze into the clouded pool wherein treasured memories inexorably dissolve…