Days morph
into weeks will morph into a month and then a year.
I exist
moving from one email to another, dragging myself from one meeting to another,
ticking off complete on each list of ceremonies trying to ignore that dull ache
and yawning hole that two people I did not even live with or spend enough time
with in their dying days have left behind. Because of whom I have this life,
because of whom I am what I am or what I am not. I have asked my mediocre self before “Why do
I exist?” and there has always been one certain answer. “You exist to take care
of your parents” So much did I invest in this one single reason that others for
who I must live learned to live without me. So here I am, suddenly retired
almost purposeless trying to find meaning in things. Acutely conscious of that
one destination that we must all reach making every current act meaningless.
This is it then. This is Life. That must end in Death. That is the one and only
truth.
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