In a world where possessions multiply like rabbits in a field, the unbending inertia stands as loyal guardian. Perhaps clutter loves its own still scream.
A coffee mug once cherished now harbors dust. Empty, like promises made to oneself every January. The spoon is never in its right place, like thoughts of yesterday.
The ancient scrolls of procrastination lie beneath what was once a desk but now resembles a shipwreck of ambition. Navigation through this debris requires a map, or a whimsical compass.
Echoes of "I'll do it tomorrow" resonate, mocking the brave adventurer attempting to retrieve the hidden treasures of yesterday's motivation.