No. That's not true. It's not plain to me but it's there nonetheless. It's some thumping, clanking nonsense in the background. The only tangible material lies in the intent. It's most clear desperation is a stride toward legacy.
The ride is so important, so the ego frays before the dilemma of "how?" and "why?" relinquishing moments to translate the intent for the long view. It's easy to get caught up in wonder; the appreciation of life's mysticism. The quiet moments at 2am, when the pretenses fall and falling asleep feels like giving up, are the clues that the day and its distractions acted both as hiatus, and missed opportunity to fight for something closer, to the truth.
Today I quit my internship. I cut a loss of time ill spent. I'm 26. An internship without direct knowledge of the company or a strategy to win the hearts of its management is like donating life-times to the abyss of never-where. I try to find consolation in the lesson, that decision making should not be a passive consequence of external events. Were that lesson so easy . . . I've been wanting to sit still and write my business plans. My unemployment is running out, I have few games to claim my interest. I'm building the courage to jog again. My life has be a series of preparations and plateaus, but I won't stop believing that perspective can change the game. Not everyone ages well. Peel your lids back and find yourself racing a demon without regard for showmanship or declaration. In fact, the enemy of progression is silent; absence. The fight for legacy comes in simple moves, strategies, counterattacks, feints, presses and withdrawals. It's sort of wonderful when you take a step back. But I do wonder if that hand that articulates this tapestry isn't simply my willful own. Is idle deliberation a sign of the crazies? I wish someone had the authority to point that out. But I know I'd flip them the bird anyway. Being human is a trip. No wonder the signs don't come in plain English anymore.