Abyss

I’m a grumpy old man. Old at 38.

I’m angry. I’m sullen. I want to do and be someone that I have willfully, quite willfully, locked up in an attic and left for dead.

I have tied my life in Gordian knots of unfathanoble complexity.

I have stared at the abyss and the abyss has welcomed me. He is dark and cold, but he is open and willing. He is steady, timely, and mannerly. Oh, so mannerly. I have asked him for solutions. I have asked him for absolution. He just gently motions me forward.

Steady as the beating drum. . .

Be a man

Be a father

Be a son

Be alone

So alone.

Surrounded by everyone

and so alone.