Patience is the hardest thing there is. It’s a commonality within a lot of us. Maybe depression is a rational response, to waiting too long, getting impatient.
but as dangerous, is acting thinking that the waiting is pointless. There’s some kind of counterforce, stealer of dreams, or maybe just a root of ruin in every mind. It says hurry up, hurry up, hurry up…. and it thinks, I could push through, I could make it faster.
The shame, when I was younger and more foolish I gave into it. Trying to be less foolish, less wasteful.
because there will be time enough, in the right time. I wanted to get there sooner, younger, so far that’s a pointless wish. It’ll come no sooner than it can, and all I can do is keep my knees working, my tools oiled, my mind sharp.
because in that I believe, that somewhere, in some time it’ll all be worthwhile. It’s what little hope I have left, after all else has burned. so I’m waiting, waiting, waiting.
wishing today was the day, preparing for it not to be.
2 comments
Sounds reasonable I think. A little hard to tell. I’m unsure I understand it fully.
to be fair, I’m grasping to understand what the thing I’m talking about myself. It’s so outside of normal, last time I tried to talk about it I literally had a psychotic break. Eight years of healing, eight years of study, and four years in the proverbial pit, trying to claw meaning out of tragedy
it’s something to do with lust and greed, or the defiance of those two drives.
but, as I’ve always said about what I’m not sure of; by their fruits you’ll know them. If I’m dancing with madness again, it can produce little else. If I’ve actually unraveled part of the riddle, then there will be meaningful results.