Drowning is not so pitiful
As the attempt to rise
Three times, 'tis said, a sinking man
Comes up to face the skies,
And then declines forever
To that abhorred abode,
Where hope and he part company --
For he is grasped of God.
The Maker's cordial visage,
However good to see,
Is shunned, we must admit it,
Like an adversity.
What is it about? The struggle to live, or the struggle to live the life you want? Today it feels like the struggle against failure. Like drowning in failure. Like sputtering breaths at success and great big gulps of nothingness.
I almost drowned once. In movies it's always portrayed as a slow spiral downwards, but it's not. It's as fast as a single mistake.
Awareness is the spiral.
And the struggle upwards is what we're supposed to do. But it is pitiful. Sad attempts at raising above the surface when every inch of your body is dragging you down. Instinct drives you upward while knowledge drags you down.
*Edit: After writing an posting I realise this could be part of the Writing Workshop, under prompt 2. So I'm entering it. It's not what I intended to write, but it suits.