These days I feel like we’ve reached the end of the line. We’re stuck in this mess we’ve created for ourselves. There’s no forward to go to. I feel there is no hope. Maybe it is just the rainy grey day chatter in my head. Once upon-a-not-so-long-ago, I remember going to bed eager for the next morning to dawn. That feeling is hard to come by now. But I am not the type of person who falls into a dark pit and stay there. I do complain. No, it is not complaining but rather voicing my discomforts. Isn’t that what is advocated – speaking your mind? Isn’t it better to bring things to light than to let them fester in the dark? If we know and can acknowledge what is amiss, maybe we can fix it.

I know that is the right route but it hasn’t always work out for me. Not everyone feels that way. Not everyone is ready to hear what is amiss. Doing the ‘right thing’ can be a lonesome road to travel. And I have been there many times on that lonely stretch of highway. There’s not a thing I could do but carry on. I’ve come to the end of the day. It hasn’t gotten better but it hasn’t been worse. The rain had been light but clouds and gloom persisted. Then it became night. The world feels cold and eery. I still carry, one foot in front of the other.

The world feels too heavy. I feel disconnected, disorganized and disfunctional. I did what I could. As always I console myself with tomorrow is another day. Tomorrow I will do better. I will look for that light at the end of the tunnel.