No Hurry

I write to drink, I drink to write.
It's a vicious cycle.
I haven't felt like drinking for the past four days, and I haven't felt like writing either.
I came home today not wanting to do anything, no TV, no music, no talking, or walking.
I get home from work and lay down on my bed for a couple of hours and just stare at my ceiling.
I don't feel depressed, I just don't feel anything.

I'm casually writing this as the thoughts slowly drip into my mind, I'm in no hurry, I'm the only one that reads my shit. I think I'm done with this, time to post.