Gemotions

He stared at the screen, the words of his essay a painful reminder of promises unkept. His life felt like a paused film reel, the images frozen in a loop of indecision. He'd envisioned himself as a doctor, as a visionary, as someone making a difference. Instead, he was working at his parents' store.

He pushed his chair back from the desk, the scrape of the legs echoing in the silence of the room. He felt restless, a physical energy bottled up inside of him, making him fidget. He craved change, but the path forward was shrouded in a dense fog.

He picked up a pen and started scribbling on a notepad, random words and phrases that didn't connect, a jumble of thoughts that reflected his inner turmoil. He was a moth beating against an invisible window.