Well, I appear to have traded one muse for another. Fortunately, despair is a muse that never deserts us and one I do not intend to let go of. I read Camus' "The Stranger" in high school and didn't really "get it." I do now. I can feel the reality of existential philosophy from the inside out. Life is truly pointless and we are at its mercy...and it has very little of that for us.
I hope it doesn't sound too trite but it's what I feel and where I am at. The mental phrase that started this one was "running round in circles" although that exact phrase didn't make it past the first draft.
Pointless Journeys
You thought you took a journey
Never looking back
But found you made a circle
Running 'round a track.
All those things you left behind
You see them up ahead;
Should you keep on moving
Toward all those things you dread.
You thought there was a purpose
You thought there was a goal,
You felt the motion forward
You felt it in your soul.
But as you turn the corner;
As you round the bend,
You see that what is up ahead
Is not a proper end.
And so we ask the question
If we ever should
Make a start of any journey
And if we ever would
Knowing what we know
And finding what we find
Completely so unable
To leave ourselves behind.
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