Day Six Hundred and Ninety Eight
Tuesday, 24 January 2012, 12.46am
There are those who are content with coasting; drifting wherever it may be. This observation is unlikely to be groundbreaking news to you, yet it is an observation that occurs frequently without recognition. Occasionally these people may step out of one river and into another, only to coast once again. It seems to be a desirable asset; such a free, and easy way to live. I, for certain, would care very much for it. There are those, however, that repulse at the idea; to these people, coasting is not living. To live one must be active, and participate. But how can one define ‘living’? Is it even a static term? Does it not have a different definition to different people? What is considered ‘living’ to one, is likely to be different for another. It’s astonishing how capable we are…how different minds assign different meanings to the same abstract. How we can assign so much meaning to such abstract things baffles me more so.
“If this is redemption, why do I bother at all. There’s nothing to mention, and nothing has changed. Still I’d rather be working at something, than praying for the rain. So I wander on, till someone else is saved.”
Recently the Oxford comma has been, perhaps evidently, at the forefront of my writing thought processes; however awful they may be, for I am no writer.
