The obsession has started

I cannot work
I cannot think

This is all I think about

What can i do?

Back for good

The boom is left half-read in the bag. Five weeks and you're still in page 200 something. It has been transported relentlessly from the room to the bag to the beach every day, full of sand. It will get finished soon I guess. But no hurry, it's the summer.

All the bags have sea shells in them randomly collected by the beaches, they mean nothing during the summer but they get instantly precious when you're back. They get proudly displayed on some table back home: they are from beach blah you say when someone asks. Next year you throw them out. They are cracked and old. They no longer remind of anything. They are useless. They served their purpose.

The new post on the blog gets postponed.
Tomorrow, you say every day.
The heat has seeped inside your brain, your cells are overheating, you have zero inspiration. You watch no news, you read no magazines, all you think of is the heat. It consumes you.

You're in the airplane, on your way back. You look at your hands, the ring is still there, they look beautiful tanned. People around you order wine and tiny sandwiches for ten euros. You seem surprised. You take out your notebook, write down things, start getting organized, start putting your affairs in order. It's only August but for you the summer is over.

Until next year.