Tomb, Sweet Tomb…

Hey all,

Had a great time at the campout this weekend; it was a great and highly memorable experience. Now I’m home and feeling… hmmm… refreshed? No… Rejuvenated? Nope. Disgust and self-loathing? Now we’re getting warm.

Seriously, there’s nothing like having a fantastic time with an amazing group of people, living wild and free in the great outdoors, sharing laughter and so much more, to remind me of the unfathomable wonders of life and the  limitless joys attainable by the divine creature that is man. And there is nothing quite like coming home from such a trip to reconnect with all the things I left behind to realize that it was the lumbering weariness and dreariness of my world that had driven me out and into the peaceful embrace of nature’s bosom in the first place.

As I drove home, my world literally shrank and closed in around me. From limitless expanse to planetary jewel to country, to my state, crossing county lines to return to my own, passing the sign that declared “Welcome to Largo”, then entering my neighborhood, then my house, followed by the abrupt realization that my entire life is smaller still, and crammed into a dark ten-foot-by-twelve-foot box.

It was a little too much. I’m angry. Not the boiling madness of outrage, but the simmering biliousness of bitter disgust. I feel trapped. Enslaved. My fetters are invisible, silent, and weigh on my soul. slowly crushing the life out of me. Every joy I experienced this weekend was snuffed out like a candle; every good word now rings hollow and empty, stripped of all worth – just like me.

The old question returns with vengeance: What good am I?

I don’t want to break out of this box. As much as I loathe it, I need it, and I loathe myself for needing it. I don’t want out of it. I don’t want to be free. Just draw the box around me tighter, squeeze everything that is my life together, ever tighter, until it all collapses around me, there is nothing left, and perhaps the best I can hope for is to give the universe a small flash of dim light as I wink out of existence and trouble it no more.


2 responses to “Tomb, Sweet Tomb…

  1. Okay time to get you out more in the sun. Make sure you wear sunscreen.

  2. Tristan – You have too good of an imagination to allow yourself to feel this way. You have talent to write and now you just had an incredible weekend, the memories of which can fuel the adventures and interactions of your characters, giving them depth and bringing them to life in a way not possible had you not had such adventures. Plus, once you have filled your characters with your adventures and expanded upon them, then your memories will live forever in your work. Think of your abode not as a cell, but a cocoon, wherein you are safe and free to record your memories and live out your fantasies. If you are having trouble bringing them to life, try covering your walls and workspace with pictures of the vistas you experienced as well as other spectacular sights. That way, wwhen you look up from your keyboard your imagination will remain inspired. Good luck!

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