Run out

Thursday evening I came home from another stressful day of work. My life has become so scheduled that even the stress has become mundane.

A little restless and unsure of what to do with my few spare hours of the day, I strap on some shoes and start walking. I pop into the corner store and grab a pack of cigarettes. I fumble with my change and snatch the cigarettes from the counter. Thanks i mumble without real regard for the clerk. "Thanks" has lost its meaning lately.

Its a cold fall night but it still feels good to be outside, knowing the cold weather northern Canada will bring soon.

I light up a cigarette and take the first deep breath I have taken all day. My stress is still there but I feel more comfortable in it. Why do I hate people I wonder? What is it that makes me hate people? I want to love people, I am holding back something though.

A couple of cigarettes later I find myself at the waterfront. I find an isolated spot and perch at the end of a wooden dock. Thinking in a casual fetal position, I take another drag. Life feels good when I am not a part of it, but it is our duty to be a part of it. I know I can't run much longer. What I am running from has never stopping chasing me. I am getting tired and I feel sick. The cigarettes can only do so much. I toss the rest of the pack in the lake.

I hope my will to run has finally run out.