The Muted Bravado of a SMG

On the grass oft the way

I've lost track, lately. Sucked under by various insidious seductions and stresses, I feel as if I've gone off course. Determination, drive, focus seem almost like foreign concepts, unknown yet tantalizingly within reach.

But me, I'm not reaching out.

I'm lazy, you might say. But no, not in a slothful, lethargic sort of way. Its more akin to leaving the well-trodden jogging path in a park to take a whimsical stroll through its byways, just to enjoy grass underfoot instead of gravel, to smell flowers instead of blood, sweat and toil.

Possibly its not the most opportune time to feel like that, with tests all around and responsiblities needing copious amounts of attention.

Right now, though, I'm just enjoying my quiet relaxation too much to care.

So, if you happen to leave the beaten path, and spot me lying in a verdant field, eyes closed and a beatific smile on my face, just leave me be. Or better yet, why not join me? The grass is fine.

posted by Đirestraits @ 11:26 pm