Nothing like being left disavowed in a foreign detention camp to reassess your life...
I've lived my life by my wits, walking up to the edge, always coming through in the end.
Maybe I became entitled. How ironic after it was I who often quoted, "Tomorrow is promised to no one."
Hope fades as each day passes. I've come to wholly realize no fate is as lonely as a lie.
The freight train in my mind never stops. Odd songs popping in, replaying schoolyard incidents, musing paths not taken.
But somehow I knew. What was my flippant remark at the office? "Do not fear, I'd never be caught there. I can't stand the food!"
And the food IS bloody awful.
But something twinged when I made that remark. As if it wasn't coming from me, that I had to live up to "being Bond."
And this is the price. To spend my remaining days in devout misery. Bloody hell!
Smart thing to do is top myself, end this once and for all. But that instinct for life that served me so well now imprisons me in stubborn desire.
If I were to be rescued, would I continue this career? Would I fold like that, helpless as a trained dog?
Or would I free myself? Worse, what if I find I have nowhere to go?
How could this happen? Staying beyond my expiration date like an overeager rookie.
With all this time to think I've had a thought I cannot bear, wondering of the cruelty of life:
Did I let myself be put in prison for having come to live in an emotional prison these last few years?
How do you un-need someone?
I've lived my life by my wits, walking up to the edge, always coming through in the end.
Maybe I became entitled. How ironic after it was I who often quoted, "Tomorrow is promised to no one."
Hope fades as each day passes. I've come to wholly realize no fate is as lonely as a lie.
The freight train in my mind never stops. Odd songs popping in, replaying schoolyard incidents, musing paths not taken.
But somehow I knew. What was my flippant remark at the office? "Do not fear, I'd never be caught there. I can't stand the food!"
And the food IS bloody awful.
But something twinged when I made that remark. As if it wasn't coming from me, that I had to live up to "being Bond."
And this is the price. To spend my remaining days in devout misery. Bloody hell!
Smart thing to do is top myself, end this once and for all. But that instinct for life that served me so well now imprisons me in stubborn desire.
If I were to be rescued, would I continue this career? Would I fold like that, helpless as a trained dog?
Or would I free myself? Worse, what if I find I have nowhere to go?
How could this happen? Staying beyond my expiration date like an overeager rookie.
With all this time to think I've had a thought I cannot bear, wondering of the cruelty of life:
Did I let myself be put in prison for having come to live in an emotional prison these last few years?
How do you un-need someone?
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