I may be going stir crazy for the second time this summer, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. The monotony of continuous empty days, the numb wash of contentment mingled with purposelessness, late nights spent fighting off sleep and tussling with the point of my existence- these all propel me forward towards something. I search out feeling. I sit in discontentment in my solitude, and I learn to live with it. My stillness upsets me into motion