From one hell to the next we traverse as though it were the simplest thing to do.

The Daily Rut Continued

Like Sisyphus, we tend to our daily toils--an exercise in futility. For years, we manage somehow to keep a stiff upper lip, never complaining about our slavish lot in life, never standing up to the task-masters who brandish the whip just above our backs, until one day...

But this one day is nothing more than a phantom, it is a dream that we keep and cherish just so that we may muster the courage to get out of bed each day. There is in all actuality no "one day" at all. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, we are beaten down, broken, and finally ground back into the dust from whence we came. All the while "knowing in our heart of hearts" that someday we would triumph. Until, at the very end, we are finally tossed aside like the lifeless meat that we have gradually become. And it is only then that we suddenly realize that our one day was never even a possibility.

The Daily Rut

The daily rut was quickly becoming his future grave...

A Life-long Friend

It it possible, given enough time and practice, not only to become accustomed to one's self-loathing, but to begin even to love it--even miss it when, by some strange chance, it abates for a time, and losing it is like losing a life-long friend.