#floundering

Floundering

I have always resisted anything that smells a bit self-helpy. Perhaps it’s because I’m pretty content with my pretty average, relatively low-stress life, where days seized and squandered pass in fairly equal number, attended by tides of frustration or mild satisfaction... Floundering is living, too, Burkeman explains. And if there is any key to success, it’s giving up altogether the quest for super-productivity and rejecting the nagging impulse to get on top of things. Instead, we’d all be happier and more productive if we did what we could – and no more – while embracing our imperfections. Now that’s the kind of pep talk I can get on board with.

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This world is madness

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We are floundering to survive as a species and we don't want to accept it

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We wear masks made of dystopia

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This is not poetic

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(It is if you read it aloud, alone, in the dead of night)

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This is not profound

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(It is if you carry it in the marrow of your bones)

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We crave fields of flowers, sunlight on water, wind and snow and rain

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This is who we are

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The madness of the world

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The beauty we would reap and sow, if only we could SEE

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P.S. Never tell your mother that you've lost your will to live

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Bullets Over Broadway