There’s been an artistic lull in my life. My mind has been stagnant lately. In a practical way my life is full of sustenance. My body and intuition control my life; there’s not much time for pondering when you’re doing what you want to do. Life has been active, and events and opportunities come my way. My mind is emaciated because my body is living too hedonistically. It’s all too easy now. I’ve cashed in my hard work over the last two years and now I’m complacent. Soon I’ll have to get back to work: hit the books, learn about the world, feed my soul again by appreciating the mystery. But it’s all too practical now: plan to spend time with this girl on this day, plan to dance that day, plan to rock climb another day. The people around me have been consuming me, and now I feel claustrophobic. My relationship with myself is no longer intimate. I only know myself in a casual way. Because I’ve been spending too much time with other people, I now don’t have time to nurture a meaningful relationship with myself and the mystery. But after all, maybe this is not a game for the youthful, but for the wise, and what I’m doing now of putting on miles and collecting information may create the old man that can play the more mental game. Lest I forget when the time comes, this serves as a requiem for the philosophical and artistic side of life. For now, I’ll be in a happy lull, and hopefully a meaningful one.
Sublimation for My Turmoil 