Wednesday, November 30, 2016

30 november

You know how it is when you’re almost there? But you’re not? There’s a strange space that exists when you feel that you’re getting closer to the end -- and you can see the finish line approaching, and it’s closer than it’s ever been before -- but yet, in these unfortunate cases, you find yourself stuck in the air. Nothing is stopping you -- inertia should be pushing, you, right? Gravity itself should be pulling you in, right to the core of success. Faster. Speedier. Physics, et. al. Right?

And yet.

Somehow.

There’s a feeling, sometimes, that you are getting slowly stuck. Like everything is getting more steadily slowed down and broken down into microsteps instead of the leaps and bounds that you were so easily accomplishing before. That rapidfire progress of the past is somehow drifting out of your grasp -- how were you ever able to get so much done so fast?

When it slows further, you feel that you are suddenly swimming in a pool of honey. Moving is possible, but it’s ridiculous. How are you supposed to get anywhere in this situation? Doesn’t anyone else see what is happening here? Why isn’t anyone helping?

Further, the honey starts to harden. You imagine you will be stuck -- one of those insects embedded forever in a resin necklace. Disgusting. But it’s impossible to escape. Where was the finish line again?

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