Drudging on through the sludge that is boredom. Oh, what a life! Pain, hurt, joy, love—these are the memory markers that we wade with. Clutching desperately to them in moments such as these where monotony encompasses; swallowing whole all of those caught unawares. I must confess that these are the moments where true self discovery is made. Not the kind that is manufactured or forced.
At times I wish that imagination thrived at all ages and in all circumstances. Perhaps it requires a certain carefree attitude to thoroughly thrive. Ah! At last, a challenge!