I was feeling nostalgic for the days 
when my thoughts dripped on to my head from the ceiling. 
I remember the feeling of the museless existence. 
Of the drunk, bored and listless, endless waiting for something
that I knew wasn't coming. 
And it seems these days I'm captive in this borrowed time. 
I was up to my neck in motivation neglect when 
I felt soft waves of purpose crashing onto the surface. 
I was feeling nostalgic for the days when my thoughts 
dripped on to my head from the ceiling. 
I remember the feeling of the museless existence. 
Of the drunk, bored and listless, endless waiting for something 
that I knew wasn't coming. 
And it seems these days I'm captive in this borrowed time.