I've had an impossible time writing about the predicament lately. I initially thought I'd regularly vent through writing as a form of therapy. But that hasn't happened for a week or so.
What I did manage to write in the past doesn't seem substantial enough to publish now, so it remains unpublished. But maybe that's the whole point of the exercise. Maybe simply getting it out is the goal, no matter how rambling and nonsensical the output may ultimately be. No matter whether it's published or not. Getting it out may simply be a way to help work through the emotions ... to unblock the dam if I were to choose a metaphor. Hopefully what comes soon is a clear flowing river as opposed to a reservoir of stagnant, algae-filled water. Hopefully.
To give a more general update, I'm still waffling between disappointment and rage. But now, nihilism has joined the party. That probably explains why what I've written in the past doesn't seem worthy of publishing ... it lacks anything compelling of substance because what's the point. The whole situation is a runaway train, and I'm 1000 miles away.
Words won't come was published on 2024-11-24