Reflecting on my twenties, in an environment where many of us became active in our teens, makes me feel years beyond what I truly am. “Ha! You’re still a young man!” They say. But spiritual fatigue has already begun to manifest my physical. I take longer to get out of the bed. My zeal for life’s simple pleasures has waned. I am more willing to drink and drug myself to anesthetize reality.
The lines in my face and bags under my eyes show signs of permanence. I want to rest, stop fighting, lay my sword down. But then, any number of predators from the streets or the system would be happy to raze this lone tree for kindling. My grand goals have shrunk to another sunrise. Some days I’m even neutral on that…
To Be Continued