Walking Into This House...

Walking into this house. Walking into this house my dreams of doing get dispersed into the stale air of an empty dwelling. No one to welcome me home. Nothing happening as nothing has happened all day here. Hello house, but it does not call out to me the same greeting. Loneliness is more what I'm sensing. Big dreams I had coming home. Things to improve the house and chores to get done, because that is what a mature person does. It all gets lost in the loneliness of this stale air.

The stuff that I felt so needed and so desired to get done are lost in this air. To be a doer instead of a dreamer is my greatest aspiration. I really want to be that person. Dreams are easy to come by. Doing the dreams is what I want to learn and what is not easy to come by for me. These feelings are a big cornucopia of depression, procrastination, laziness, loneliness and entertainmentalism (the state of being where entertainment goes at the top of any list of priorities). Where is the will to get this stuff done? Where is the desire? Why does the desire get extinguished when I walk through that door? What will it take to make desire stronger than this air? This stench of stale air.