Grinding it out ((Closed))

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Grinding it out ((Closed))

Post by Sarpedon Illicon on Thu Feb 23, 2017 1:09 am

It was a blur of three parts. The first was simple, everyone felt it from time to time. It was the outer layer upon which everyone delved and touched upon. It was nothing special. It was the blur of the humdrum day to day life. It was mundane. It was difficult to quantify, but, things seemed to stagnate. The cogs of time almost felt like they'd stopped moving... yet, he'd blink and a month had passed. There was a monotony to it all, repeating the daily grind without complaint. Not to say there wasn't a satisfaction to ticking off the boxes over and over and over and over again, but, it felt lacking. He was missing something. There had to be more. What more? He was certain that life hadn't stopped just because he'd stopped paying attention; that would be conceited, to say the least. Well, it was the least of the blurs, but by no means the least important.

The second was not unique, it filled his days and he knew that others felt it too. It was the blur of action, of filling a schedule with - not meaningless but not meaningful - things. Every day he'd run through his drills, the motions muscle memory months ago. Every day it felt like he was delaying, putting things off, pushing them back. Every time he drove his body to the brink of exhaustion life seemed to slow down and speed up and whirl around in a moment he couldn't describe, couldn't put to words. There was nothing like it, truly. There was a weight, the weight of expectations waiting for him to confront them, the weight of the future and its possibilities shoving back, the weight of the past tugging backwards lashed to him by chains he couldn't dream of removing or replacing. But when he went through the paces, there was only the next step, the next set, the next reprieve. The day would fly past and he'd be left alone with his thoughts again. It was the core of the blur, it held it all together. Without it, there could be no drifting through time.

The third was the most subtle blur, it was the quiet blur; it was the kind that on the surface was humdrum, felt ordinary, felt every day and mundane. It was layers however, and hid beneath that outer facade with a cunning charm, the heart of it more personal than any experience. It was the soul of the blur and without it, there would be no longevity, it would have ceased long ago, dissatisfaction overtaking the mind and body. But with it in place, the perfect balance could be maintained where he became almost robotic, okay, an understatement, but he could drift on this wind, perhaps perennially. Who knew? Books, books kept it at bay until his lids could lift no longer. The Librarian was well used to his visits and trusted he'd return them once Saar was done. Saar. It was strange. It was a name that almost felt alien, out of reach, out of place. It had been too long since it had left someone's lips with a smile or a laugh. Recently he'd begun the Kingkiller Chronicles; an excellent series where ambition was central but hubris was vital, where drive was key but patience was irreplaceable. There was a lot of wisdom within the written words. He was coming to the end of the second, but he'd heard it had been six years with no sign of the next. Wistfully, he'd returned it to the library, a dozen or so pages left. It would be there should he need it, should the desire claim him and for once he lacked the will to resist. Until the next chapter was released, he could say to himself there was still book left to satisfy him, still a few pages and it was enough. It was the subtlest of the blurs, the one hardest to pin down, but without it, everything would unravel and hed be forced to confront himself. With the blurs, that day was not today.
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Sarpedon Illicon
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