Musing

It's just another day, one more to remember (or forget) and one less to live. I don't find either aspect particularly frightening or annoying, you learn to live with the parameters.

The podcast planning is marching along as I begin making some hard choices. Do I represent the silent muses by selecting from their inspirations or do I leave their corners of my history untouched? Do I really want music? Where's my other sock?

I get the sense (although no one wants to say it) that I am unwelcome where I am right now, which is a cold sense of darkness. My options are few, but I will fold my tent and move on at first opportunity. There are those who would not have me do so (or at least, not right away), but I try not to linger where I am inconvenient. I have been a guest too long in the house I bought.

Besides, the couch is uncomfortable...more so after 6 months.

That there are others being discomfitted, disaccommodated or deprived due to my presence is a burden I do not wish to carry, even if it is the attitudes or prejudices of others towards me, and not I myself, causing this trouble. It is not a cry for understanding or empathy I make, merely an observation, strangely dispassionately, that I make.

I have cared too long and sacrificed too much to have much left to care about. When a man has nothing left to stir his soul, nothing left to fear or hate or love, that is when he is truly free.