So I am up late for duty, and with such time between patrolling the darkened corridors of intoxicated men I am once again given the worst gift I can imagine... Time to let my mind wander... Doing everything I could to distract myself from though, I returned to my usual solace of grinding steel to a honed edge. After I have gone through a small armory worth of blades I started thinking again. Why am I so bitter? , Its because I can easily adapt to doing virtually any job I put my mind to but in the end its just a job that pays. No profession I have encountered has pulled at my veins. I have no calling. In this I envy my wife for she has passion and heart for what she wants to do and she excels in it. My only natural abilities are less reputable, and bring no ease to suffering or have a grand purpose. Even if employed they bring me no happiness or feeling of fulfillment, only the sense that I am still capable and there fore should continue. I have come to the conclusion that I will always do what is required of me but I have nothing that inspires me to take up something so strong as a passion for work. And please: I dont mind your thoughts on this ladies and gentleman but no Religion talk... I beg of you.
Posted on: Thu, 07 Aug 2014 06:43:51 +0000
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