• i wonder if those light-bulbs are screw in or the type with two prongs which you push in and twist?
    there are three of them, all embedded into a smooth white plane which makes up the kitchen ceiling.
    and so, as i lie on the floor, i ponder on the form of these bulbs.
    one might ask why i lie on the floor. a bowl of weet-bix sits on the bench, milk freshly poured over four crisp biscuits. they'll be losing that crispness now.
    a sudden loss of will to do anything came over me, just after i slurped the excess milk out of the bowl. and so, i tumbled to my right, and lay on my back in the kitchen for a time.
    school is over.
    what do i do with myself now?
    there seems to be little direction in my life now. there are things to be done, but i find myself with no motivation to participate. i play piano, i dance, i chat with friends, all things that i should be capable of happily passing time with.
    and yet, none satisfy. nothing seems... worthwhile.
    i don't understand myself.
    let's take one example, and explore that. it's a popular one amongst angsty teens, i understand.
    previously i have found myself with great envy of people in happy (or even those in unhappy) relationships. i think to myself "i'd love to have a girlfriend. that'd be great. that would complete me" - but now that the opportunity arises, i find myself with no will.
    no compulsion, no gumption.
    i can't comprehend myself.
    she's a great person, funny, pretty, all the things i have wanted for years. and yet... nothing.
    i feel nothing.
    is there something wrong with me?
    it seems my interest in girls has left me. when did that happen?
    i have one suspicion, personally. should i tell you?
    perhaps you'll be embarrassed. i would be, but i don't know you, so i find myself having a little more daring than otherwise. nobody will read my little entry into these arenas. that or they will have left having discovered it is little more than the ramblings of a loser.
    so. the point.
    it all started, oh, five, maybe six years ago. picture an eleven year old. at some stage i must have graduated into the echelons of people who are allowed to peruse the internet alone, i don't recall when. can't have been too long ago.
    however, one day he gets curious. he clicks on the ad with the scantily clad woman on it.
    new feelings are aroused within him. powerful feelings. desires. lust.
    an almost innocent, curious click develops into a monster.
    one that remembers exact URLs of particular websites, so that even when deleted from the history, they can still be readily accessed. one which changes the settings of the browser so that google doesn't remember when you've told it not to filter image results. one that cleans up behind itself, brushes away tracks, but regularly scribbles on the walls, retreads the path.
    over time my respect of the feminine form decreases. i have just managed to wrench myself out of the habit for advent, with a vow to my saviour. one broken only once in the last three weeks, the largest stretch of time i've managed in memory. i'm proud to be free, but the marks remain. i will never return to my previous self, the innocent 11-year-old, the day before he made that decision to investigate a little further.
    that's one area or unwillingness explained. the others i cannot do so succinctly.
    i do not know where my motivation has gone.
    somewhere i changed from someone with ideas and dreams for life to someone who falls over because they can't be bothered eating the meal they just prepared, or walking back to the computer to see if any friends have come online, or walking down the hall to their bed.
    a zombie, a living dead. someone without a heart, without a goal, without a meaning.