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May 28th 2009

    Those moments which are hard on 'being' arrive.  They are moments, which mean they pass.  But what if they remain as an unwanted and permanent guest.

    We are for some a 'being in time'.  One moment engrossed with the coloring book, the next flawed. A complexity of the random place, perhaps.  The get up and go that tomorrow is supposed to mean.  The thing that we are.  The slope upon which life is.

   

    As a clinical exercise, describe it as depression.  This gives it that certainty with a solution, that status of identifiable problem, and because we are 'beings in the world' our obligations are defined, solutions available.

    So I wonder what freedom might actually be.

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