I struggle

But I’m so tired of struggling. I’ve endured my whole life, working and trying. Learning and practicing. I’ve read the right books and I’ve done the right exercises. I thought I was at a point where I could begin to enjoy the fruits of my effort. I thought I could be happy sometimes, maybe even fulfilled. Perhaps this was presumptuous of me.

Perhaps it’s presumptuous to think that I could ever be happy.

I keep forgetting the lessons I’ve already learned and now I have to learn to deal with a new set of rules. I must grow gills, I must learn to breathe in water. I’m so tired of changing to fit the environment. Maybe sometimes the environment should change to fit to me. Or maybe I should get out of here and get back where I’m at home. Except I can’t go back. Impasse.

I labor and I toil. Night and day I struggle.
But the stone rolls downhill and I carry it up.

Albert Camus said living is anguish.