Tides — Personal
It is the last week of March. This month is almost finally over and really it can't end soon enough. My father recently said to me, "Don't wish your time away, you can never get it back", as usual he enlightens me with his insight and wisdom, yet I can't help but feel like a prisoner waiting for their sentence to end. For the most part I try to just float along with the tide, like a duck bobbing up and down on the ripples of the water, but sometimes, suddenly, I get pulled into an undertow and all over again I am drowning.
The hours of my day do not seem like my own. I fight desperately against time for some semblance of joy or meaning, just a moment's worth of freedom from my psychological shackles, and yet it evades me like a stealthy enemy. The minutes spin into hours and the hours just wash over me with a power that cannot be slowed. Every night the witching hour comes much too soon and I find myself exhausted and restless. Expectant and hopeful, and yet bored with a life that does not alter.
It is a contradiction, I know. To wish the time away and yet to feel as though my time is being stolen. Maybe these are confusing times. Maybe I've just come to the end of my road and all I can do now is turn in wide circles until the path is cleared.
And yet I remain hopeful. Creativity and enthusiasm awaits me around the bend. I can hear it calling to me like the distant howl of a wild thing. The shadow that has lingered for so long over my spirit is soon to fade. New York City has been both my blessing and my curse.
The passage of time is indeed the shadow of our life, cast a large shadow my darling so that you will not be forgotten. With the future comes a new light and a new shadow lurks, waiting to become the next chapter.
Always pursue your passions with vigor Lamar, for passions are the fruits of success and sucess is just around the corner waiting to be discovered.
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