Before today, he’s known as someone who minds his business, he finds no pleasure in gossip, only resolution and reason. When observed from the outside, you’d think his composure a flawless pillar of strength and endurance. But inside tells a different story. One of continual damage built over years of silence.
I have no plan, no road map, only an idea, and a digital watch on my wrist to remind me how much time I have left, and how much time I’ve spent.
For now, I suppose that’s enough. Then again, maybe not.
I guess we’re exactly where we need to be: Collecting debt, patrolling property, pushing produce, hitting publish — somehow still moving; progressing.
Whatever it is that I don’t want to do, I do.
And I do it so often that I’m not entirely sure that I don’t want to do it.
All I can think of is this one thing. I know if I return to it, it will be difficult to escape.