Melancholy

Dreary. Drab. Dog-days are here. I have been struggling for weeks with a vast emptiness somewhere in my head? mind? heart? I just don't know really where. I feel as though I am wrongly positioned on the face of the earth, as though I am falling away into space, dislocated from all that makes sense. In truth, nothing makes sense. Not even existence. In the unusual Nigerian sense you will agree that I have a great job-six digits and all, a beautiful wife, a son, great friends and family members. But something appears to be amiss, I can only describe it as something huge like the sun suddenly vanishing and my world left dark, bitingly cold and nauseating. I guess it is my work. 6 years of training for a teetotal uninspiring profession. I have no passion. No real drive (save for the drive and hunger to shine amongst my peers - lucifer's kind of  shine I fear).

Dreary days are here again and everything has fallen into a treadmill. Wakeful hours are the most enervating.  Tiredness sets in as soon as I detach myself from the bed. It feels as if I stayed up all night and never went to bed the night before. Every morning I do a reality check consisting mainly of the pyscho-analytical tool - BILLS TO BE PAID LIKE CLOCK WORK!