Checking in.
And I have been talking about checking out. Still. I guess with some of the most important anchors from my last journey having just upped and left, the heart is adrift again. And dangerously, the mind sinks into the dark abyss again.
Still using the same mindless drifting metaphor, the tumbleweed moniker has become a self-fulfilling prophesy. My life purpose remains elusive, and the time for action is dead at a quarter to. Maybe I need a shrink. Maybe I need a friend. Maybe I need a hero. Yet it seems like I need to don the armour myself and strap in my phasers to avoid disappointment from pseudo knights on white horses which most likely need saving themselves.
Still, I managed to fulfill one promise to the folks and took them to Bali with almost no planning. Like in all holidays of the past 3 years, my most memorable moment was next to the water, the Indian Ocean to be more precise. And like all oceans, it didn't disappoint in terms of the ferocity and power. It was particularly turbulent when we were there and the pull towards the waves and rocks was so strong, I could swear that I was lured by siren song. I was only held back by the guarded stares of Mom and Dad which locked and pulled me back like a benevolent tractor beam.
I interrupt this baseless rambling to state with utter seriousness that if there ever was a Westeros, I would most likely be iron born. What is dead may never die.
How small we are. How insignificant with our ridiculous fretting. what a waste of energy and intellect to have all this capacity and yet live small meaningless lives to eat, seek shelter, procreate (for most lucky ones anyway) and then die. On a rock that orbits the sun until it one day collapses into itself, scorch the earth and kill everything.
How stupidly futile.
And here I am wondering if the boss will yell at me tomorrow.
How stupidly futile.
And I have been talking about checking out. Still. I guess with some of the most important anchors from my last journey having just upped and left, the heart is adrift again. And dangerously, the mind sinks into the dark abyss again.
Still using the same mindless drifting metaphor, the tumbleweed moniker has become a self-fulfilling prophesy. My life purpose remains elusive, and the time for action is dead at a quarter to. Maybe I need a shrink. Maybe I need a friend. Maybe I need a hero. Yet it seems like I need to don the armour myself and strap in my phasers to avoid disappointment from pseudo knights on white horses which most likely need saving themselves.
Still, I managed to fulfill one promise to the folks and took them to Bali with almost no planning. Like in all holidays of the past 3 years, my most memorable moment was next to the water, the Indian Ocean to be more precise. And like all oceans, it didn't disappoint in terms of the ferocity and power. It was particularly turbulent when we were there and the pull towards the waves and rocks was so strong, I could swear that I was lured by siren song. I was only held back by the guarded stares of Mom and Dad which locked and pulled me back like a benevolent tractor beam.
I interrupt this baseless rambling to state with utter seriousness that if there ever was a Westeros, I would most likely be iron born. What is dead may never die.
How small we are. How insignificant with our ridiculous fretting. what a waste of energy and intellect to have all this capacity and yet live small meaningless lives to eat, seek shelter, procreate (for most lucky ones anyway) and then die. On a rock that orbits the sun until it one day collapses into itself, scorch the earth and kill everything.
How stupidly futile.
And here I am wondering if the boss will yell at me tomorrow.
How stupidly futile.
1 comment:
What is dead may never die!
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