I can’t even tell if I’m at impasse anymore – I only feel a little nervous tension in my gut.
I think of what I must prepare for… whether I must prepare for it… and in the back of my mind I have to admit, I do think about fleeing the whole situation. Once again, I feel like I’m somewhat captive here.
I have a meeting and the sky opens a little. The prospects for my future brighten and I begin to see, if not a way out, than at least a way forward… to a place that’s slightly more bearable, or perhaps a great deal so…
I come to a better understanding of myself and my position here. I think of my own pusillanimous character, how meek I often am… and I wonder if it’s for my own conscience that I call myself accommodating… and not simply fearful or just a figure always cowering and anxious about tomorrow.
A little accolade… a little praise… and the possibility of a different path. I see the places I might like to visit, I think of the extra time I might now get to spend with my family… I think of the time for my self improvement, as I’m not unchained in a sense and liberated form what might have been a quite grueling path. Of course it might still be my fate… but at least perhaps I’ve voiced my reservations and I’ve attempted to flee.
I think I could perhaps live her a little longer… I’m not sure though… I don’t know if it’s just momentary relief… relief at the prospect really. I shouldn’t get my hopes up – I know I shouldn’t. I might still be consigned to this fate, at least for a little while longer.
I’ve expressed my wish to teach philosophy. What a tremendous thing to do! I suppose if that was a possibility, I would or could be quite happy here. I might… I suppose… even let the thought of a child and a wife recede a little further.
I know give a lot of emphasis to the present… likely too much really. Of course I can stand to suffer a great deal… for tomorrow… so maybe that’s not entirely correct.
In the next moment I think how mundane these posts have really gotten. I think I write for someone – and that’s always the death knell of an authentic voice. I’d like to once again write for no one… The thought of opening this website up has perhaps led to it being watered down… at least temporarily. What of the great existential questions?