|
maybe it was the
weather, maybe it was just a poor night's sleep.
maybe it was yesterday's travel and spending all day on my feet.
maybe it was the weight of world, every headline
spelling defeat.
maybe it was the overflow at last, a lifelong steady
drip of grief.
was it a protest or is it pathology, tang ping or hikikomori?
am i depressed? do i need a diagnosis? or am i just
lazy?
i spent the day bedrotting, eyes closed and
listening,
kept company by my mentors, sunny and patchouli.
when worth is measured by how much you achieve,
doing nothing might be the only way to stay free.
|
|