Quiet Desperation
I want to retreat into a cocoon and burst forth months hence as a better person for everyone in my life, including me. Lately it seems as if all my energy is devoted to countering all the tiny stresses which flow in an insidious undercurrent that doesn’t feel like stress. The net result is that I’m just okay, just getting by. Ambitions and drives fizzle easily. There is no Great Work welling up inside me, no stories, no art. Getting the laundry done has become a noteworthy event, a sign that the day did not die in vain. All other tasks or concepts overwhelm.
I wander out of my quarters, wondering where the crew has gone. I spin the steering wheel out of boredom. Direction doesn’t matter when there is no land in sight. All the maps have blown overboard anyway.
Tags: Life
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