series2bk6.104

 

Vanish the will to contend with the problems on my plate, for my fate is written, and solutions just appear - fearful or benign. I incline the focus of some gentle attention to diurnal matters of less import. I'm brim full of misery and despair - staring ahead, half dead to the world, knowing I'm becoming a dummy - useless for conversation, and inept for attempting to contend with social life in general. The intention to write a magnificent masterpiece was easily formed, and could just as easily fade. I've made a mess of life, which merely consists of a list of unfulfilled (impossible) plans.      A period to watch aloof begins,      whilst others race within a world that spins.