I've been cryin' like a siren in the mirror

Leaves are turning, but so much else in my life is in flux that this array of color seems like the least of the change to come. There may not be much light under this blanket of doom, but there is a sense of relief to be found within the folds of hopelessness, assuming one knows where to look. Yeah, counterintuitive though it may seem, there is strange consolation in the knowledge that desire has become moot. In this day and age, decision anxiety can be even more crippling than legs being cut out from under you. Bloody stumps though I may have where ambition once carried me, at least I no longer feel the pressure of running the race. After all, I am so tired.

A full-time caregiver can only be a part-time author, no matter how many pages are eagerly waiting within me for the chance to be put to pixel or paper. All these words trapped inside, bouncing around their prison of muscle and bone, manifested only in a mimicked movement as I spend my restless hours hopping about like an illiterate frog.