It’s June, the middle of the year and I’m at an alley with a dead end. I feel like I don’t know what to do and I can’t think straight. I feel as if I’m trapped in a small room; I can hardly breathe; and I’m waiting…just waiting for something to happen. Every day drags and everything is a shade of gray. Days turn to weeks and weeks into months; and I slowly feel drained; like I don’t want to make another step. I just want to pause, breathe real deep and try to find some sense amidst the turmoil that is my life. I search for any means of comfort, instead, I am left with a cigarette in my hand and my own conflicting thoughts. My enemy is time; I can feel it working against me; my tormentor is uncertainty and it puts me in a difficult situation. I want to move forward but I feel limited. I want to stay put and deal but I feel unhappy. I’m a living, breathing work of ambiguity. I hope that this is just some phase like other normal people go through and I hope that in time everything will just…happen.