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They day is sluggish, my head is heavy, my eyes are droopy. Time crawls when you're low and tired, when life slows you down and crumples your frame. I feel antsy but listless; alive but useless; young but hopeless.

I walk on a dangerous path. The scenery that once excited me now fills me with guilt. I hang my head and stare at my feet. I can no longer tell if I'm gaining elevation. For my legs report no burn, and I'm too scared to raise my eyes.

It's gotten dark now. The temperature has dropped. I've killed time, but I know that it will eventually have its vengeance.