faded-field-pascal-rossignol

A pinch, a fog… something has descended, a tension that I don’t notice until it is already acting on me, on others, through me. I am unhappy and distant, critical and unwieldy. It’s something I need to excise. I see something looming on the horizon, something terrifying, and I don’t feel that I am ready. And it’s far enough away that I don’t have to be. But it’s close enough now that the only thing to relieve the tension is to stare directly at it, and I have so much to do… I need to be more serious about how I’m spending my time, instead of letting the undone pile up as I ignore this thing that is coming. An examination. I don’t have the time to be so diffuse, though I’d like to order time to stop for a week, to live in the emptiness that would provide. I need to plan my time as if I am already being examined. That is, in actual fact, the exercise. 

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