Friday, February 24, 2012

Tempus Fugit

Mile Post 52.54 

Again I feel within me an urgent need to write in order to try and express my thoughts and feelings. Writing compels me to coalesce and condense a confusion of thoughts into expressions, forcing me to focus and carefully choose which words to record here, yet adequate words elude me.

These longings and feelings within me foment and I want to cry out in anguish. My entire being groans to cry out to the Lord to be heard and instead I silently suffer in this silent turmoil. My feelings are inexplicable because my life is presently free of any major problems. Nevertheless, my emotions are severely agitated and I am fighting against an inexplicable despair.

At times I wonder whether or not I a suffering from some type of an undiagnosed mental illness. At other times I wonder if I am struggling against the will of God. If so, then what complexities in my life am I struggling with and what really is the will of God?

I believe my present struggle is choosing between satisfying some of my unfulfilled desires and doing what is expected of me. Passing years do provide a deeper insight into the value of time, but becoming older has only awakened a profound sorrow in truly understanding the finite nature of my remaining lifetime.

What is expected of me? 

As more unsolicited demands are asked of my time and undesired and unwanted responsibilities are demanding my time, my spirit becomes increasingly belligerent and hostile against those intrusions into my life that require my time.

What value do we truly place on our time? 

Our waking hours and working lives constantly prove what price we are willing to sell our time for, but can we ever say that we have received value in exchange for the time we have sold?

I do not know the answers to these questions, but as I become older, the ability to answer yes is becoming less probable.

Thursday, October 19, 2006
The Oddblock Station Agent

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