An endless, tedious, hopeless, predictable existence. Running like a hampster, or a monkey climbing an oiled pole!
There are moments in life, when you witness someone giving voice to your innermost thoughts. Art does it well enough, and you turn the page, or shift in your seat clutching the popcorn, drinking in what unfolds before your eyes.
A book I once read (Marjorie Morningstar, if you would like to know) mirrored what I saw today (Revolutionary Road, nosy). I was elated though. Positively joyous. I know now why I have this time on my hands and what I am supposed to do with it. And myself.
Sitting there, I felt like creating something really strange and silly. Maybe a bizzarely shaped chair. Or something! Of my own design. I didn't care whether it would be of any use to anyone for anything at all. It was just because I need to start exploring. What I can do. Whether a dark skirt suit will forever own me, with daily readings of indices I was never meant to track. Or maybe, I will discover, I do have a destiny of the kind I'd always hoped for.
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