Verily lacking my Veritas
And here I sit, as I have so many times before, wine in hand, snacks on the side, brain fired up and heart filled with thoughts to transcribe. The difference is minor. No longer does clarity come through the deep and satisfyingly dark drag of a cigarette. Inhale. Exhale. Think. Know. Act.
I’m meant to find another way. Inhale. Exhale. Think.
I search for a moment of clarity. A gut-wrenching sense of self-honesty amongst the daily keeping calm and carrying on’s. Everything I do, say, be, has become a chess board of checkered mate. I have an infinite desire to write again.
Infinity (symbol: ∞) is an abstract concept describing something without any limit. The English word infinity derives from infinitas, meaning “being without finish”, and which can be translated as “unboundedness”, from the Greek word apeiros, meaning “endless”.
If it is endless and boundless, how am I meant to control it, think it, understand it? If the point is non-existent by it’s very nature, does it even warrant discussion?
Yet here I sit with an infinite desire to write again.