closed doors, open windows

slow afternoon. wrinkled days.
something has been scheduled today. but at the last moment, a setback happened. which is the friggin worst time for me, because i don't want to be home right now. i don't want to think.

i've been having wrinkled days lately. after one piece of somekinda happy news, the fear sets in. not fear of unmet self-designed expectations. not fear of ineptness or mediocrity. but fear of the reality-based kind.

27 years. of relative freedom.
nearly 27 years of someone's toiling. now, ended.
we're happy. but we're afraid as well.

it rubs off. on me. because just at a time when i'm inclined to move away from pragmatism, this hinders me so.

there are other priorities. other responsibilities.

a dampener. and that, among other little things, sources of disappointment/frustration in this daily non-existence, is somekinda exhausting.

makes me want to sleep the day away.

and for the first time ever, nothing, besides physical rest and a stick of menthols, could resuscitate me from a bad day. not even love. and it's saddening. because love has always been a balm for the spirit. ever since pre-school.

this will pass. i just need to pray more. and not worry about tomorrows. because god will take care of everything. just as how he has taken care of me and my family for the past thirty years.

there are more blessings to count. i should be grateful for that.