Thursday, August 22, 2013

What I Might Say To Myself If I Was Wise

Today,  I am free of depression, physical pain and grief. I am not persecuted by anything I can name right now. The world is open to me. I am able.

Yet the more I sit here dwelling on it, the more I realize I am already falling under the dark spell of inertia. The proof is in this cloudy state of mind,  this dull lack of direction, this nearly permanent drowsiness. I know it by the shape of my body, how easily I am winded, and the weakness in my limbs.

I am weary without having earned the state; false exhaustion. Do not succumb to this, for it is the first green sprout of death.

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