Perhaps the two-part combination of restless inactivity and the smoldering heat is to blame for my recent lack of motivation, or perhaps better put, inspiration. It's insufferably warm, and every day feels like a Sunday afternoon. Time beats slowly, the ebb that carries us from moment to moment has skipped its cue and it seems to have left me cemented in a fraction of existence that I am desperate to escape. Pressure flows inwardly from all sources and there seems to be no relief in sight, this damned heat carries it all with itself and diffuses it within my mind, along my body, it consumes the world around me in a blaze of ignominy.
When will the summer end?
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