Sitting here naked in my

Sitting here naked in my room with just a towel on is doing nothing to help my creative thought process.
Staring at the pills lying on the table to combat my malnutrition, depression, and my cold is doing nothing to help my confidence.
The chocolate bar is stirring up a little bit of emotion, but my queasy stomach is quickly putting together a filibuster against that idea.
The mirror is the only winner in this battle as it laughs at the fat that is rolling off of my arms and body.
The room is weighted down by the darkness and the chaos of clothes, books, papers, and wads of tissue paper that litter the floor
And in the center for this dark, chaotic mess I sit, neither going forwards or backwards, just waiting for nothing; just waiting.
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