Drawing a blank

The last post was 4.5 months ago and I feel as if I have nothing to say about the collected  trappings of my day-to-day. Also, I don’t feel that I know that person well enough anymore to say what transpired with any authority. It’s all data points and outlines – nothing but slow, nascent rumblings into the now.

Recounting anything would only amount to an itemized life laundry list. Unrelated things. Abrupt beginnings and endings, and protracted mundane-ity.

What little I can say, is that much of my recent past has been usurped by the catapult of urgency and general intolerance of wasted time. I have willingly traded my olive branches and bridges for hermitage and shunning of most people. I cast off that which made me so palatable to others for shrewdness. My energy is not expendable and the time is not ripe for the lackadaisical whims that envelope and entrench themselves in the collective minds of those around me.

This could be very well be a transient state to something less harsh, but right now, out of the glow of love affairs, travel, and a shrouded reality – comes this need to liquidate.

Right now I feel a rebellion towards the person I was just a 1.5 months ago.

I feel as if I have been recast from a different material.

A blank slate