Sisyphus Greets The New Year

Such is the manner of a new year — boulder aside…

Awake in a daze.  So much to look forward to at once, then you must deconstruct it into 365 pieces and concern yourself with just this one here.  It’s usually colder than most other days.  Earnestness is often overdone, the force of resolutions seem reasonable, even in the most overzealous cases.  The pages of the calendar, journal, etc., are barren and full of such wondrous possibility.  Despair dissipates, a bit, exiled to the peripheries for a while.  In most cases you haven’t fucked up yet, you haven’t had enough time to.  The emails taper off a bit, momentarily, the requests for donations have all but disappeared.  But soon they’ll begin again with best wishes for the upcoming struggle.  Now push.  The boulder you burden with seems momentarily lighter, easier to move.  Now concentrate.   The pitch increases quickly and you don’t wish to lose your handle.  There is danger about.

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“Creative work is often driven by pain.”

— Cormac McCarthy