The World Is Waiting For Me

The world is waiting for me but I'm stuck here in my room ceiling fan keeps spinning round mind's become consumed shadows and reflections like a strobe in the corner of my eye I'm looking at the tv but I have no idea why the grey smoke from my cigarette dancing in the light slowly swaying back and forth such a sultry way to flight returning into nothingness clouds of dust and ash dispersing in air's currents under the window's sash