Restless with nothing to want

No craving. That's what makes this one strange. You get up in the middle of a show you were enjoying, walk to the window, look at nothing, walk back. Your hands start jobs and drop them. Sit in it long enough and it turns into dread, like you forgot something important. It's agitation with no target.

You didn't forget anything. Your nervous system is running hot and hunting for a reason. Your body may still be relearning how to idle without nicotine. You're a sprinter crouched in the blocks, waiting for a starting gun that never fires. It's a setting, not a signal, and settings reset.

Your mind will offer to explain it. Your job, your money, your health. By tonight you'd have a whole worry built on a body that just had energy in it. Skip the story and spend the energy. Walk fast for fifteen minutes, phone left behind. The feeling is physical, so give it a physical answer.

Then notice what's left. The agitation doesn't leave so much as get used up. What remains is good tired, the kind that sleeps. The cigarette kept your hands busy and called it calm. Every walk like this teaches your body that nothing's wrong. On the way back, one line is enough. Lord, teach this body to be still. It's fuel with nowhere to go yet, and you get to choose where.