Too Tired for Words

There are no regular posts now because there's no regularity in my life; I'm tired and sometimes angry and frustrated, seldom mildly sad, and a bunch of other stuff that are not inducing to writing; I stopped watching films for some time now; and the book is going really really REALLY slowly.
I gave myself a couple of inspired pats on the back, but not much more.
There's a lot of solitude and plenty of tiredness and still a lot of work to be done for readjusting to so many things.
I miss many things, moments, habits and you, people.
Perhaps tomorrow will be more coherent. This is all that today can be: a washed-up splash of reality's colours.
This is the repetitive accompanying tune to go by.