Those Things

Those things you do.

Life, wandering through it, thinking about plans, having none, and moving on.

Those things.

Wondering. Working hard. Not working hard. The pointless existence of meandering, all while listening to everyone and no one at the same time. Wondering why. Living in that state.

Setbacks. Things to do. Concern, worry, and anxious moments for no real reason at all.

Those things.

It is all right, yet it is not. It is just the procedure and march of things we don't want to do that we fear. It is less a fear than a something we want to reject and walk away from. How life has gotten too complex, and how things never turned out quite the way we wanted.

Yet in those moments we find ourselves, lost yet found, restless yet comfortable, and where we want to be in a place we never chose to. Watching the slow spin of a world out of control, yet not caring about any of it.

And tomorrow, more of those things to do.

Those things which we do, the bare minimum needed to progress through life, one day after the other.

Anticipated, yet expected. Hated but we shall happily do them again and again.

Until an unexpected moment interrupts us.

And those things we reviled, we miss. That drudgery, those chores, that way of life.

We miss them because they were the unwelcome normal we had become accustomed to.

And for all of our dislike of that routine, it is the very thing we miss.