August 22

It’s terrible, Will, my whole ability to function is so out of whack, I just sit around feeling restless and useless, I can’t get excited about anything and I can’t do anything either. My imagination’s gone, nature doesn’t do anything for me, and I get sick even thinking about reading. When you lose your self, you lose everything :-/ Seriously, sometimes I wish I were a construction worker, just so I could wake up in the morning and have some idea what was going to happen that day, some kind of structure, something to look forward to… I even get jealous of Albert, seeing him buried in paperwork, and I keep picturing myself being happy in his place! I’ve been this close over and over again to writing Jim about that job you keep saying he’d totally give me. I’d probably still need to apply, though, right? I should write to Master Smith…he always liked me, and he always told me he’d write me a recommendation if I ever applied for anything. And it couldn’t take me more than an hour to put everything together. But then if I take a step back, I always start thinking about that fable about the horse who got bored of being free, so he let himself be saddled and bridled, and ended up getting ridden to death…and I just don’t know what I should do…and, Will! what if this longing inside me to change things up is just some kind of fundamental inner dissatisfaction that’ll follow me around wherever I go?

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