February's Funk

Things change and life moves on.  I lose sight of that sometimes, when I feel stressed and alone.  Time is a factor in the ever-changing seasons of life. Given time, all cycles eventually swirl into something else. What stays with me, is another lesson to learn, and wisdom from the experience.
I am not the one in control, but I gain perspective, just the same.  Patience can be my enemy, but also my friend.
If I would accept and learn to "go with the flow", then I certainly would not stop in my tracks and bog my brain down with getting what I want.  I don't know what I want most of the time anyway.  I just have this intense desire to be in control, and contort others into making my dreams come alive.
Perspective is the key to attaining the future goals.
Age may play a part in my anxiety, about not arriving soon enough, at where I long to be.  There's definitely a sense of "running out of time", before I can achieve my heart's desires.  For example, I may get too old to care, to be physically able, to be mentally aware of the path I've chosen...that's kind of funny.
I know I am not too old to dream, and hope.  I have a new dream--which, has helped to bring me out of a serious February Funk!

Lost in the Maze

Incredibly bored, and steadily growing weary, I am lost in a silent, blinded existence. I struggle to find the doorway to understanding. This bleak, sorrowful soul cries in the dark for a tiny ray of light.

I've chased my friends outward, so far away, until I can barely see them anymore. All because I've needed their help so desperately, to keep myself from drowning in life's pool of iniquities.

Doubtful there's time left to save this pathetic one.

Urgently necessary, is a revitalization, a renewal of hope, a calming love to hold me.  Used up, are my favors, my second chances, my epiphanies. What remains, is but a shadow of my former self, grooved down in this well-worn rut. There seems to be no escape, no ropes, no ladders, no arms stretching to pull me up.
Why am I here? With possibilities and opportunities exhausted, new growth will not prevail this time around.

I'm poised to give up, give in, to hopelessness, unhappiness, fear, and sorrow. Self-pity has no value, since I drained that lake long ago.

Is this all there is to my living?

Sadly, I've given everything away, until there's nothing left for me. I never believed that could happen. But, I suppose, as with everything in life, there is a limit to resources. Strangely, I'm not too depressed--I'm just empty, and my vessel is old and rusty, cracked and leaking.

All is in vain!

Still, I'll continue to go through the motions like an near-sentient being. Roboting, what others need me to do and when.

All the while, my spirit is dying as my soul shrivels, while my heart turns into stone, for I have looked deeply into the eyes of Medusa...