It should be no mystery that Stańczyk, by Polish master Jan Metejko, still resonates with generation after generation. It portrays… or perhaps portrays is too weak a word, as is describes. It exemplifies a sense of despair and even beyond despair, defeat. We all must have these days and in the last couple years I’ve born witness to countless people who seem in the very act of recreating this image.

It also happens to be exactly how I feel this evening. It could just be exhaustion. I’m open to the possibility that a good night’s sleep will wash it away. It doesn’t feel that shallow though. It feels like… despair. Though despair connotes hopelessness and that the beauty of this paining is still so overwhelming might exclude the possibility that this is despair.

I don’t know.

I don’t know.

I don’t even know, in fact, why I’m writing this, except maybe to mark the moment as a point of ccmparison for where I might be tomorrow at this time. I kind of feel like there was supposed to be an instruction manual or a trouble-shooting guide with this life thing I bought into.

Stay tuned.

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