It took a long sleep and a heavy dream to clear my head… drain the clogging away. The heat of summer glues me stuck to a computer screen or an engulfing bed, with no purpose or determination. There are flashes of imagination, fits of life-injecting euphoria… Then back to bed again. I’m looking for a different morning, something to jolt me out of monotony. But everything is too familiar within the premises of this dry city. Here comes the second cup of coffee. Here comes the head shave. Here comes a messy list of employments, an execution squad to kill time. A gun fires, then all the rest get stuck, point to the sky, time survives and pours back, slowly, all over me. There is no one to call. I’m left to my boring, insufficient self. Too concentrated to devote to other creators solely, but too soft-willed to dedicate the hours-on-end to encouraging the dusty seeds of inspiration in my brain. I prepare myself another drink and pray it’s all just a season to pass. I’ll finish this drink and then I’ll spend some time looking for the season-changing button. Promise.