One More Day

One more day and the restlessness grows… restlessness and anxiety.  I think about whittling down the remaining time here, and when I’ll be free.  I’m nervous about the approaching week.  I question my base of knowledge and competency, and my ability to bring forth and communicate the curriculum.  There are perhaps rather mundane matters a little removed from the existential questioning that usually takes place here, but it occupies my mind at any rate.

I think of leaving, more as a dream or some fantasy than anything else – like some sweet reverie that momentarily takes me away from this place.  I have little things that occupy me now.  I’m looking forward to getting back into the “swing of things” as well… because I know things will move quickly then.  It’s this waiting that’s getting to me now.

I think of building for tomorrow, or perhaps that’s all I can tell myself now.
It seems quite strange to have an online diary in the next moment – or something that approximates to it.

I remember when the name of this website was an injunction, and I suppose it still is in better times… but I also weave in and out, as this website takes on different forms and serves different purposes.  I suppose right now it’s as much a distraction or way to bring out the time a little – or cathartic as much as anything else.

It’s a restlessness that drives me now, and an inner tension.  I can’t let myself be still, because then I’ll be inundated once again with thoughts of… tomorrow I suppose, and questions of my fitness… I don’t know.

I was once fragile, leicht berührt oder leicht getroffen.  I feel I’ve perhaps made myself hard to the world now, or worse dead inside… and unfeeling.  I suffer quietly, if at all.  Stillness is tolerable… even though I know it isn’t, in better times.

I write out of compulsion, running now, fearing silence.  So I speak very little.

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