Autopilot

It has been so long since I have written any words from within my being. Absorbed by life—the activity of it—has left no room for introspection or analysis at any depth.

I stop to ponder now, the idea that I am living a dream—maybe a set path is more accurate—of which I have never had any control.

This should be disturbing to me, as I am nothing without my delusion of control.

My attempts at relinquishing it for the sake of my own sanity have repeatedly failed, but now, finally close to being overwhelmed with trying, I feel ready to go on autopilot.

Necessity forces my surrender. I yearn to finally be cool.

JArtB