The Day the Music Died

I lost my chi. Either I dropped it somewhere or someone stole it from me.

Whatever it is that's keeping me up is gone, down the drain, into the shit basin below the ground we stand on.

I guess there comes a time when even the best warrior gets tired of fighting.

Today I realized, I am tired, not of fighting but of finding a way to fight. I've been trying to come up with the best combat move but nothing seems to work. My efforts have consistently been futile. For the past months or years, I have that kind of consistency.

Definitely not something to be happy about.

I must be doing something massively wrong. Or I am the wrong.

I don't know.

Right now I feel bad, really bad. Not-your-ordinary-I'm-on-a-drama-spree kind of bad. Nor the I'm-gonna-kill-myself kind of bad. I feel so bad to think of such things.

All I want to do is retreat to my tent and find out what is there for me as reality intends. I could start with that.

But if I don't bounce back, if I don't recover after this, I'm going to have to take my bow.

After all, my workshop cannot stay open forever.