Do Battle

And so it comes to this.  I feel that I am fighting this battle every moment of everyday.  And there is never a clear indication of whether or not there is any progression in any direction.  The battle is ongoing that it is merely a ritual of everyday life, and if it were ever to end, that in itself would be more cause for alarm than the result of the battle.

But at some point I have to stop to consider the expense with which it comes to wage such a war.  What kind of toll is it having on my body and mind?  The effects are at best mild with rare episodes of extremity, but when charted on a timeline, and considering the efforts wasted sustaining the battle, then it begins to seem that... that... there could've been so much more.  So much more.

But it seems such a loss to let go of it, as if the battle itself is what I seek rather than the allure of victory with which a warrior plunges into battle.  But it seems that there is no true battlefield, but, rather, a place of reflection; a shameful place between reproach and addiction; a stagnant area of my being where it seems a waste to lose, but equally a waste to win; it is a place for consideration and speculation on my morals and soul without decision; a place of meaning but without consequence; a place characterized by hesitance.

Kit-- don't let this poison what good you might happen to possess.  If there be any courage and honor in you, harness it.  Whatever energy that goes into holding up the rock that is your opposition, let it drop, and then focus all your being into fixing all that can be fixed in the aftermath.  Otherwise, you are stuck in this cycle that can't even be called perpetual because no kinetic energy touches it, for you are simply not moving.

Let yourself be free-- and, as you drift slowly towards the heavens, grasp onto reality with your gaze still fixed above, so that it is the real you touch, but the surreal you feel.

Consider five parallel lines, and how mundane they are as they stretch onto infinity.  Consider how boring repetition is when its done over and over.  But then- consider those five lines, and then consider the notes with which they are filled, and consider then the music that those mundane lines inspire.  Consider the same occurrence that repeats without a change, just as night and day, and then consider the possibility of possibilities with which each day can be lived.

Do that, Kit-- take the mundane and repetitive, and create.