Every day seems the same, one blending into the other. A never ending gauche style painting. Just an oversaturated piece of what-would-be art, bleeding vibrant colors one into the another until each bright streak blends and swirls further into a dark hue. A brown, the color of muck. Muck also being the name of the feeling attached to the blurry mess of days. Forgive the lack of exclamation in my punctuation while I ponder being Punxsutawney on this never ending Groundhog Day. Afraid of my shadow, I relive the same scene; day in & out- with the definition of insanity ironically flashing like a bright neon sign in front my minds’ blind eye.