So after five days of waiting for someone, anyone to respond to the epiphany that wasn't, I am now forced to concede that I do not really exist. I am just a wisp of imagination floating in somebody's dream. Until they decide what to do with me next, I will be but a dream within a dream. Is it too far fetched to believe that we are but a character in a book?
In the story that I now populate, I am not the main character, I am just a minor antagonists, with a sub-par intelligence and absolutely no personality. Now I'm in storage until that omnipresent author decides what to do with me. I can imagine what the line for the last 2 months of my life would be: "Jason spends the next 2 months in front of a computer making good money for the time being, but soon the futility of life crushes him into less than a shadow of what he use to be, but the proverbial shell without an oyster."
Ugh, I'm just not into writing right now, but I'm not depressed. Just bored. So for anybody who cares, I'm still alive and kicking at the door to Hell as always.
1 comment:
Jason- I care that you are alive and kicking and do exist. You are not a character in one of my books, yet :-)
I wish I was sage and had something meaningful to offer you. I can only say that it's good you are willing to deal with your emotions. Mine caused me much pain before I did something about them.
Oh yeah, try to find something that rocks your world and do it. Mine is writing, but I also spent a lot of time on technology. I am a nerd.
Gregg
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