Though you wouldn't guess it from visiting my blog, I feel a surfeit of everything: bad news, books, music, media, emotions, people.
I've been stepping back everywhere; I don't know what's left to step away from. Yet it seems possible to withdraw just a little more.
A month from now, approximately, it will be another blog birthday. Then actual birthdays. Then departures. Tempus is fugiting away.
I mean, others work harder when they realise they don't have much time left. Me, I chew my nails with a little more dedication.
It's not like I don't have things to do. They're just not very productive things. They keep the wheels of my life turning; that's all.
Looking at these lines, I feel like I've achieved a kind of Thirukural-like pithiness of line and length* so I'll stop right here.
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* In drafts. On the blog it looks like someone chose to ignore Thiruvalluvar's line scheme. That's the line between intention and execution.
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* In drafts. On the blog it looks like someone chose to ignore Thiruvalluvar's line scheme. That's the line between intention and execution.
1 comment:
Yes, there is a surfeit. I have not been stepping back as much as I would like to. I have attacks of withdrawal.
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