My mind feels congested, like my thoughts are swimming through toxic sludge, getting weaker and weaker as they struggle to reach the muddy shore, not only from their aching muscles but also from the poison that surrounds them with every futile push forward. Ideas are floating around, really good ones at that, but I can’t quite pick any of them out of the murky mind storm that’s brewing. It’s almost like having your head packed with cotton, with white noise playing in your ears and blinds pulled over your mind’s eye. I wish I had a way to conjure up more pleasant images, but hopefully you’ll see just how uncomfortable this state of mind as it is described exactly how I’m experiencing it at the moment…
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