the lost man chronicles
grey skies, never again
it is a dreary morning.
dark, no sign of sun anywhere, glossy streets, a flat grey horizon, sheets of rain speckle the windows.
entertaining optimism will be a challenge today, especially since many will set their moods accordingly. and, although the beacon of my soul will have many a cloud to break through, i will smile nonetheless, if not—allthemore.
admittedly, i may sigh a few times more often in the wake of this surrounding despondency, but it will merely be to regain a sense of serenity, to reposition the bearings of my self as i navigate the straits of others. inhale, exhale, smile.
and all the while, during this contest of my positive ply and wile, although i may not charm anyone to turn up their dispositions—in fact, i may very well irk more than perk—i must hold my own, persevere, even if ultimately i do so alone.
granted, others may wish their wallows and brumous sorrows to be washed away, hoping the sun will come out tomorrow, but i cannot afford to wait that long.
for it would be wrong to believe that the answer lies in the denial of the drab day. the trials of today are the opportunity to take advantage of time that will never pass our way again. never again.
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