Friday, March 11, 2016 10:12 PM
5/6/13
this sense of fatigue,
it overwhelms.
a murky fog over one's head,
wet, heavy cotton on one's eyelids,
forcing them shut.
yet she struggled on,
pushing against that dense wall that clouded
her mind and consciousness, deadening
each action such that a simple pushing
of the buttons on her keyboard was nearly beyond her.
one. keystroke. at. a. time.
forging on, she almost wondered what it was all for
but caught herself in time.
one must never question why:
it is the most poisonous of questions
that can overturn any notion of productivity.
and productivity, that was the whole point of her existence wasn't it?
one. keystroke. at. a. time.
for it is but one more step through life,
and one more step to dying.
