Here is something I ran across while cleaning out my laptop's desktop. It's dated 23 Sep 2003. I guess I was feeling dark that day. It's not atypical of my writing, but this one is short. I don't often feel like this, but at times, I indeed do.
Some people dream of some day to come. I dream of no day. I long for today to pass... and tomorrow to never come. I desire the twilight. But tomorrow will indeed come, and I will be there. To my misfortune. Why the darkness? Why the pessimism? It's not really either. It's resignation. The shallows. It's where I live. It's drab. It's dreary. It's dark. Tomorrow is no brighter. Why would I dream to see it? Life, here, on earth, is penance. Not joy. C'est la vie.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
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