Here I sit. More or less lost inside myself. Trying to perhaps find some deep philosophical meaning, or any meaning at all, for this thing we call life. Here I am adrift, as I have been for a while. Sometimes hopeful, sometimes hopeless, here I am. Sometimes calm, sometimes angry. Angry for no apparent or, at least, direct reason.
Here I sit, writing in a foreign language. A language that I have learned slowly throughout the years. Not always slowly.
Here I sit thinking about mistakes and things that have passed, as well as things that are yet to come. Here I am, trying to find something -- what, I don't even remotely know. Here I am, confused. Here I am, not so confused. There are such few moments in which the illusion of clarity descends upon me and wanders about until it quickly leaves.
Is this all because I've lost her? I suspect it is, I suspect it isn't.
Here I sit, writing pointlessly waiting for time to pass. I sit waiting for time to pass. I do something, waiting for time to pass. I read something, waiting for time to pass. And time surely passes.
This is all very silly.
November 23rd, 2015