waiting room

How do you dig yourself out of a hole? Sitting at the bottom, looking up the steep vertical sides to the small area of light at the top where the sky once stood. One begins to realize that maybe you were a little over zealot in your singular focus on digging. That your grand effort to find a solution possibly may have taken you too deep. That your choice in a shovel, might have been the wrong tool for the problem at hand. And it starts to become hard to breath, there seems to be no oxygen left. Your eyes squint to recognize the light and your aching sweating limbs begin to feel the walls closing in. Your blistered hand, unable to grasp the shovel anymore cannot help the tears from rolling out of your eyes sockets. Through rock and earth and grave you have dug, believing that was the direction to your salvation. Only to find that the dark solitude, the pit of your existence, was your own well intended efforts. The mistakes I have made are but pail ghosts to the reality of this situation. Painfully obvious, now standing at the bottom, that your efforts were for naught. Misguided, stupid, wrong screams the earthen crypt and you have nothing better to do but await for the rats.

tab

I have aced the first two classes, yet the sun doesn’t shine. I come to this lost world with an inclining of what might have been, only to find a desert lost in an oasis of all things. Seeking relief from the stifling humidity of the crying air, I hope that this dryness will stop me from hacking my brains out. At least I left the machete at home. Maybe I can find a sweet cosplay girl. Is that really your blue hair? Nice horns, Shiklah? Yet, like the lack of shade I get no offers. “Getting by, is the new Good”, my mantra, slithers out from the hot dry sand, a poisonous serpent that hisses at my face and claws at my eyes. And in the dark the sand fleas parasitically suck off my weathered skin, taking what is left of my blood, leaving me a pale white walker wandering across this wilderness. Can I use anymore nerdy references? Should I bring out the geek in me? “Do I dare to eat a peach?” “I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each”.  So what exactly am I whining about now? What would it be like to feel empowered? To have some control over ones destiny? Could I still be whining about that same ‘ol shit, really? One would think that I might have learned. Hi, yea I’m getting…b…GOOD, I’m Good. Yea, Good, how about you? Hey, if you just open it in another tab, then you will have both of them right there. You won’t have to use the back arrow.

 

Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;

At times, indeed, almost ridiculous-

Almost, at times, the fool.

T.S.Elliot