At a government meeting, I can hear bird song behind the chatter of elected official and staff and citizens. I no longer have any official duties here and I'm just listening to people say things in favor or against a particular high-profile project.
I no longer feel the need to write things down. I am hoping this is temporary, but I'm not sure anymore. This tremendous cloud of apathy has settled in, and the winds have stopped blowing.
Perhaps its a form of paralysis. A Medusa has caught me in her gaze and no antidote has yet been found. So, I continue to think thoughts that sail past me into the ether.
I know the reasons why I am stuck, but I can't bring them into the light. I lack the muscles, the neurotransmitters, the chemicals, the animating force.
I also lack the courage. My life has become so leveraged, just like so many people's lives do when satisfying the mortgage becomes more important than living out a dream. The risks are too high to force action.
This is temporary, I feel. Everything I know and believe about myself leads me to think that a new geological era will spring forth. I will hear a melody shortly that will cause the facade to begin to break apart.
Perhaps that melody will sound a bit like birdsong.
Striking down the mundane and dastardly while retaining a certain obscure turn of phrase, denoting something elusive yet concrete.
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