Last week of school. Finally, almost there to a breather.

Well at least I'm already 1/4 through the week and that makes me 1/3 closer to the GP CT. Without doing the math, it's a clear forecast that the upcoming days promise a hectic schedule and I'm really just trying to wade through the tidal waves just to collapse on the sandy shore when Friday comes along.

Just 3 more days. Long, weary, emotionally-draining days.


A poor man's struggle to keep afloat is more than easy to ignore, even for the victimized soul. I guess it's important to be scarcely conscious of the wear and tear the body endures rather than surrendering to a blank slate of emotions, a template of unfeeling desires. Pain is good actually. It's torment is a reminder of the reason why we live. If life were to present you with the same old, perfect lemons all the time, I'd reckon you'd give up making lemonade eventually. And that's horrific. Nobody wants to live a lap of luxury so much so that live becomes meaningless on end. The apt occurrence of hiccups is actually an element of serendipity and quite rightly so, a blessing in disguise, as cliched as the phrase might get it is so relevant.

Perhaps, to a certain extent it is inexplicable. We all hunger for different extremities of pain and albeit it might sound incredulous, it is perpetually at the forefront of our subconscious. Irrationality is a trademark of the contraception we hail as the brain and pain keeps the fighting fever burning. It resides in each of us, an alarm to snap us out of our ludicrous dreams and a preparatory dialogue in silence to build up tenacity and zeal.

 As the forlorn shadow elongates with the passing of the sun, so too the longing of my heart. For the passing, and the coming. For a breather.