Call it a burning desire to urinate on the system that we as people have established; status quo. Felt a huge fluctuation of anxiety when I finished this day earlier than what I would have thought or expected, and it was technically my first day of job (again), and huge surges of this same rhetoric came pouring back in when Miriam and I have not been having proper back-and-forths since yesterday. It was as if we had lost interest with one another just like that. Either that or I have been consumed by the same system of dependency. The bug that I caught long ago that ruined me to smithereens.
The long-winding hours, that which I felt was necessary, was to be a time of reprieve and a time to catch breath. It turned out to be much more toxic that it should be, and it came to pass faster than it should and I now feel poisoned and abused by the thought of having allowed this in the first place. Tomorrow is what I would consider a real test of my endurance, when I work from seven in the morning until two the next day. I fear for myself as always, tiptoeing into fragile territories, flirting with disaster. It comes with the territory when today marks the seventh job I have had in a span of three months. It is what I deserve; it is not what I expect mine life to have been. Still, the feeling of dread that the next few days take me has nothing compared to when the figurative tomorrow finally lands in Luton airport in December.
My existence had been feeling like a glass maze. I look forward to a straight line, only to crash face-first into an invisible blockage, and I need to navigate the maze with just my unorthodox way of thinking. The maze represents my journey, but the end is not at all that important. There is no happiness, no contentment, no light at the end of the tunnel. The journey keeps moving on. The intention is to make me realise that my journey, our journeys, are not actually ours to begin with, but only to peruse, until our times have passed. Like the supermoon that came to visit. The moon, in all its glory, came to say hello last night, and the night before last night, I suppose, from where I am from. Then it was lost so quick that it just showed itself for the purpose of tease. Like my life; my journey. There are days when I suffer and suffer hard an intense feeling of saudade, as the Portuguese speakers describe it. It is something that I cannot describe, but I know it is what I think it is.