Bookmark #787

Nothing to do or think about, not because the list of worries has run short, not because the river of responsibilities has run dry, but because to begin would be to surrender to the feeling of helplessness over how little I can affect in this life. When you have a typhoon of problems whirling about in your head, it is better to shove all of it in the desk drawer behind some paperwork and then shift your gaze to the grass outside, glowing under the sun.

My insistence on the banal beauty of this barren bouquet of experiences—living the same days repeatedly—is not some unfound wisdom. Poets look to the stars because the world is filled with bills to pay, houses to build, and families with impossible demands to appease. I go a step further and claim all that is beautiful, too. Am I in the right? Maybe not, but I know I am not in the wrong either. All of us have a duty in this life. My duty is to live. There is a soft, green field between glory and purpose. If you ever pass by it, say hello. I began living there when it was made apparent to me that I would not have the impact on this world I had always been convinced I would. So, I turned inward; now, this is what it is.

In terms of larger-than-life stories, you would say this is where the vigilante hangs their suit or costume, never to wear it again. But there was nothing larger-than-life before I made this decision, either. In terms of this world and society being a large machine, I am the smallest cog possible. I reckon these comments appear to be self-deprecating, but I do not mean this as an insult to myself. I think it is quite appreciable that I seem to have accepted this. There are people I have met who live unhappily until they are about to die, and then, they think about all the times they could have looked at the sun.

“Any last words?”

“Could you open the curtains, please?”

This will not be my life despite its never-ending tribulations. At least, I will have that to my name. Nothing is ever as beautiful as the regularity of this moment. I wish to lie down in the grass, watching the sky as the years pass like clouds, but since that is impossible, I must make time to watch the sky anyway.

// if you want to support this walk to nowhere, you can pitch in here