"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away." Thoreau
In my best attempt to fall off the beaten track of a constant life of conflict, with blinking red lights that remind me there is a world out there that demands my attention and understanding, I have succumbed to the pressure of focusing my thoughts toward a miniature screen and sticky keyboard and away from the natural, present movement in front of me.
I do this out of some sort of nudging obligation that says I'm needed, I'm missed, something else is more important...
Instead of diving head first into the saltiness of an escape and letting it wash over me with a simplistic wildness that screams "It's Your Life", I begrudgingly operate the wheel in the direction of someone else's priorities.
This is a minor sickness.
Won't you help me get well?
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