Endings

it seems that i have been talk­ing about end­ings late­ly. get­ting things done, last chances, last expe­ri­ences. i must be weary. i’m not focus­ing on the begin­nings to come. i don’t real­ly under­stand why i must be goal-ori­ent­ed at all times and why i always wor­ry about what i am attempt­ing to accom­plish. what i need is to take time to do noth­ing. NO, that is wrong. i don’t need to take time to do noth­ing. that just means i am sched­ul­ing absence into my lin­ear goal-ori­ent­ed rou­tine. i need to do noth­ing. just absorb, pon­der, accept, phi­los­o­phize. regain a per­spec­tive on exis­tence. i’ve been con­cen­trat­ing on find­ing the cheese for so long, i’ve for­got­ten how to run the maze. once i remem­ber how to do that i can take yet anoth­er step back­ward and for­get to be the rat. even­tu­al­ly accom­plish­ment ver­sus per­spec­tive reveals itself to be noth­ing more than a choice of levers: one gives crack and the euphor­ic sense of win­ning, the oth­er gives food and means sur­vival.

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