When things don’t work out the way they should, there comes a time beyond the horizon of resistance and fight, when you give up. You give up because you’re tired; you give up because you can wait no more; you give up because your being is drained of strength. There is a strange pleasure in giving up, it makes you comfortable and numb. You stop caring about being aware of the life and world that passes you by, a detached insider looking in. You have lived long enough to know that the quietness that surrounds your thoughts, is temporary. But you’re thankful for it. You fear the impending disappointment that might soon flood your mind, hoping that it gets lost on its way.
What is so wrong with being satisfied with resignation, you wonder. It makes you comfortable and gives you a break from your constant struggle. And although you could lose hope, you let things take their course.
Maybe that’s what was needed of you. Maybe you needed to be still and envisage the forces that guide you. Maybe your advocacy towards your issues kept you from being absolved. Maybe for once, you’ll disentangle yourself. Maybe for once, you’ll live without care. Maybe for once, you’ll let it be; maybe for once you’ll live free.