A blanket, soft and warm, with just the faintest hint of her perfume – Dead Deer

Today I wrote from 20:13 to 20:23. I was prompted by ideas here. My other writings here. All my prompted writing here, and my tweets here

No real idea at all what I can do with this? The deliberate juxtaposition of the comforting opening with the sense of loss in the second half leaves me, well, lost. Again.

Once again I find myself with no options, stuck and defeated. By this prompt, as in life. What am I doing? Where am I going? Nowhere good, that is for sure. Clinging, clingy, needy and unneeded. What next? Accept I suppose. But it is this element of looming acceptance and clarity that has led me here.

The concept was bad, but when considering it more carefully, the actual reality of it, it is considerably worse than I first envisaged. So, I have agency. Accept it, live with it. Or I can choose what I want. I try. It seems that that choice is in fact closed; no it is open but I would lose, and end up in a worse situation than the one I cannot abide the thought of, the vision of.

I am in circles again, but it feels now more like a spiral. I have spiralled many times, of course, but downwards. Now it feels like it is spiralling outwards, ever outwards. Fifty percent? Twenty percent? Zero. Why? Why, why why should I tolerate this diminishing role.

Because I am, as I have always maintained, optionless, without agency, out-manoeuvred and continually manipulated. Kept in the dark, misled. Stuck. Lost and bewildered whilst all goes on around me, not by me but to me. And the constant imploring to take control, to form my own destiny is nothing but mocking laughter. Cahoots. They are all in cahoots. How can I move? How can I continue? Well, the same chorus tells me how;

“You just have to.”


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