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Thursday, December 6, 2012
Vanity of Vanities; All Is Vanity
I woke up thinking it was time to stop doing, that it was time to let go of those activities I consider worthwhile since they seem to give so little delight to anyone else. I woke up thinking it was time I surrendered to age, decrepitude, and eventual forgottenness.
Why trudge on?
Of course, having lived as long as I have, I know this is a natural feeling, perhaps nature's/the cosmos'/God's way of preparing us for coming changes. Maybe it's a cyclical thing, attuned to the seasons. It could be plain dysthymia. Or nothing more than my own reaction to the deep winter months couple with the mild anxiety of mounting another play early next year.
Nevertheless, it is a real darkness; but not one to sleep through.
Why trudge on?
Some questions have no answers. The body does what it will to move on, to keep living.
So we go on.
And we walk through the night to another daybreak.