“The Stone at the Bottom of the Lake” Lately, I’ve been feeling like I’m stuck in a weird space. It’s hard to put into words, but it’s like life is moving all around me—and I’m just standing still. Everything keeps shifting. Days pass. People change. The world spins. But me? I feel like I haven’t moved at all. It’s like I’m being dragged by the current, too tired to swim, too numb to care where I’m going. I’m not making choices anymore. I’m not in control. I’m just... floating. No—sinking. I feel like a stone lying at the bottom of a perfectly still lake. The surface looks calm, peaceful even. But deep down, I’m just sitting there—silent, heavy, unmoving. I don’t make ripples. I don’t cause waves. I just exist, waiting for something—anything—to disturb the stillness. Sometimes, maybe a passing fish or a swimming dish bumps into me. Moves me slightly. But then I go right back to stillness. And it’s not even sadness anymore. It’s not happiness either. It’s the lack of feeling anything. I can’t cry. I can’t laugh. I just exist in a weird limbo between giving up and hoping for a push I can’t create myself. I don’t have the energy to fight. Not for myself. Not for my dreams. Not even for the basic pieces of my life. It feels like I’m trapped in my own body—watching everything from the outside, like a silent viewer of someone else’s life. I don’t know what this feeling is. I just know it’s real. And it’s eating me slowly

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