How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world!

Hemmed in by futility
Penned up by the trying and the trying and failing
Over and over.
One note, played in a long drone
Or repeated in metronomic rhythm.
It is this evening out of highs and lows of life
That concerns me most.
Wailing with grief or screaming in ecstasy –
That’s all good
But life flat-lined?
When all sense of purpose is negated
When all agency feels stifled
One long note
Could drive a person crazy.

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