Sunset.

 

I am just a poor boy 

Though my story's seldom told 

I have squandered my resistance for a pocket full of mumbles such are promises.

All lies and jest.

Still a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest. 

- Simon and Garfunkel, The Boxer.

Sunset.

The manifold petty frustrations of working in a  food service job in today's labor and political climate.

The virus.

The sheer impossibility of finding an apartment or other affordable place in my hometown of nearly twenty years after endless shocks to the system from the 2008 economic crisis to the virus.

These were the things on my mind when I stopped to take this picture.

Something intrigued me about the clouds turned orange by the sunset, which of course didn't show.

Story of my life.

It's as good of a  header photo as any I guess.

I  resigned from my job. My boss tells me I could come back as early as next week if I need to.

Like hell.

Fuck that place.

Hell, maybe I  just couldn't put up with the bullshit anymore.

I've been depressed for many months and I don't even know why.

That fog is starting to lift and I've not been liking what I can see of where I am, in terms of mental health and the purpose of this life.

Maybe it's just me.

Christ, if I knew what the fuck the answer was I wouldn't be in this mess.

Sometimes you just hit the point where you're done.

The sunset was as good of a metaphor for that, and the uncertain future that fast becomes the Now, as any I guess.