Early onset of ordeals that you'd have never thought would come to you this early. People hit gymnasiums to get physically toned but he joined one to keep the cholesterol levels down to be up and running the next day.
His colleagues at work regard him as a man who doesn't flinch much. He smiles if off while the warm wisdom burns within his inner walls. That all this is only a mechanism to stay away from ennui between waking up and falling back.
It's the purposelessness of what he does to win his bed and breakfast that kills him internally. Nobility has always been an unconquered fruit hanged to a tall creeper; so he thought adding inches on his knees to turn taller so that such fruit can be plucked.
The fruit has only been a mirage, Such stark reality is only coming off its covers. It is because it's a refracted image from altogether another tree.
Peace at heart us what he lacks. He's got everything else that's devoid of nobility; in modicum quantities though.
On hopeful days, he reads a page or two from a book. That perpetuates wishful thinking that only is more like a failing star that's way beyond its light years of glory.
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So yes, he was thinking about nobility before lunch. The failing cause & the ensuing rage reminds him that what he does is absolutely inconsequential. His input of a few good hours of time in a day into something doesn't make a difference in whatsoever manner to this world.
Like a melting icing on a stale cake, there are acquaintanceships that depress him to no end. People go out to come home. A home is where people stay while their beds await them. For him, there's a cold bed that awaits, cold to an immeasurable degree. He's got no one to go home to.
One feels unbelonged at some place only when he feels belonged somewhere else. If the 'somewhere else' exists only in one's brain but with no physical address, belongingness remains enigmatic. His heart feels the heat waves of similar enigma.
He longs to be at the 'somewhere else' that's apparently nowhere. He ain't just displaced but he is just out of place. Occasional rubs with liquor coupled with nostalgia come a little closer in making him feel wishful but the wishfulness lasts only as long as his intoxication.
He still hopes that the new place is going to be nicer to him but the frequency of the hope is rapidly diminishing.
He seems to be on his way towards being a lost cause but he enjoys a history of revival. When hope is getting bleaker, history is getting richer to fall back on.
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