I'm struggling right now. To deal with the realities of things that will never go away. No struggling in the way that I feel like drowning or like I can't deal, just struggling with the constant, persistent nature of situations and choices that i'm presented with. I want to write but my words don't seem sufficient to describe, but the reel of text that rolls through my brain all day begs to differ. I want to be relevant, witty. I want to be true to the events of my mundane and extraordinary and yet I am silent. Well, not now, but I was...am...whatever. Every morning is like jumping into an icy sea of fresh adventure, and dragging my body out at the end of the day I find my fingers pruned and the fresh awareness of morning replaced with the duty and regret of evening. If I could actually jump hurdles I might use that comparison but I feel like my complete lack of athleticism insults it, so we'll stick with blindly jumping into dark water. Like a Spanish explorer searching for the new world (but you know, not in the rape and enslave all the people kind of way), I feel like I keep sighting land, just off the port bough, but on second glance it's a trick of nature's cruel mirage.
So here I am, bored on the boat of life, lost at sea. Surrounded by water I can't drink and not a glimpse of land in sight. I wonder if i'll ever feel content with where I am? Does anyone? Do you? I find myself understanding adulthood more and more each day, and losing a grasp on the whimsy of childhood. Death and taxes is what they say, or so they tell me.
