Bucket Bathing

Current feelings of 'underwateredness' have been accented by my own over-sensitivity to my surroundings. This is to say that my head and countenance feel as though they're suspended in a jar on a high school science classes' counter with the lights off and the fresh smell of floor wax just now striking the room. The primary cause of this is a lack of sleep, but can be also be attributed to a feeling of boredom. Boredom with my current situation. Knowing that there are things to write and read, to create and produce but I'm unable to gird myself to the point where I'm proactive. Which leads me to an over-sensitivity to my surroundings; this tends to occur when I'm feeling as though I'm particularly unproductive, lethargic, or lacking in the 'stamina' or 'creativity' to get anything done and someone requests that someone else take care of or express something on a subject that I either have a background in or know an awful lot about. Over-sensitivity abounds as I sit there quiet, afraid to open my mouth from having others jump in or show me up despite of their obvious lack of an intention to do so. "These people aren't one to show others up," I present to myself in a series of slides from a loud projector in my head, "they're friends and, more than likely, suffer from a similar situational maladies that I do; fear of being unnoticed or something about them being unknown. The innate problem in this comes from me very rarely expressing any of the intricate details of my life or skills or stories that actually reflect my inner instead of outer being. So, this has far more to do with my own sabotage or unwillingness to be upfront about myself than anything else. I gently drip onto my bed as beads disrupted by myself instead of the outside world; which, is confusing to most those who are disrupted by comments, actions, and billboarded problems that line their external world.