The fog is suffocating.
I cannot see clearly. I cannot think thoroughly.
It is as if the fog surrounding me is made up of my formidable thoughts, each sapling of moisture carrying its different weight. Some so light it floats airily around me. Others so substantial it crashes down and around creating a massive squall.
Some days the fog is barely visible off in the distance. Other days the fog is so close I can scarcely see my hand in front of my face. Today, the fog is on top of me. It surrounds me. It is suffocating me.
I am trying so desperately to move through the fog. I crave the sunlight and clear blue skies. This stifling fog is blinding, thick, and deafening. I yearn to hear the happy chirp of birds and the peaceful swaying of tree limbs in the soft, tranquil wind.
I wish to walk unburdened on a majestic sunny day. I aspire to face the expansive sky standing tall and content. This fog is consuming. It is dizzying. It is confusing. I reach out to touch the mist and it shifts, unreachable.
I feel it sifting through me, creating fragments of myself. This fog is paralyzing, surrounding me so as to hold me back. Somewhere, deep inside me, I know the fog is evanescent. I know tomorrow is another day.
Today, though, the fog is colossal and I struggle to see through it.
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Picture from: https://www.pinterest.com/explore/creepy-fog/