Passionless

As the curtain draws on another day, I can't help but reflect on the things that have come.
A strange cloud has fallen over me.
I feel weighted; paralyzed.
Physically, I move with ease, agile like a cheetah, but mentally, I am soggy.
Thoughts I figured were once buried deep within the storage units of my brain have begun to recently seep out from within their locked spaces.
Not so much evil, or reckless thoughts, but thoughts that make no sense whatsoever, creating a random movie in my head over and over.
Where is my passion?
Like a sloth preparing for hibernation, I move slowly from one project to the next, never invoking any sort of enthusiasm or excitement. What is done is just done, and something I accept.
Where is the passion that was once the engine and wheels that drove my car of life, blinding navigating the curves and wrecking more than once?
Buried deep within a dormant soul is my only guess.

Truly, I am slow.

Like a little kid licking a yellow bus window, I am slow. Insensitive as well.
It has been months since I have taken to my dirty, pizza stained keyboard to inform the InterWeb of my wanderings, my life and my maniacal ways.
The wait is over.
I would have to say the No. 1 thing bothering me these days is nose hair. Nobody likes it, it's just there.
Like little tiny baby hands sitting below your nostrils, reaching up and tickling you.
Ridiculous.
I do not like baby hand nose hair.
Ever.
Now you know and your life may move on.