Its so much like a game. Sometimes like a physical and brutal game that a predator plays with its 'horrified-running-for-its-life' Game. Sometimes like a game of chess with its cerebral battles- its arched eyebrows and thoughtful pauses. And, yet sometimes, like a boxing match with Life handing out staccato knock-out punches once in a while. Of course Life is a never ending battle, a struggle that probably ends with life itself. But I often wonder at the changing tempo, the change in the texture of the struggle, the ebb and flow of the game, the change in the game itself.
One would have to admit that "it" is rather engaging most of the time.
I would have to admit that it is ennui that I fear most of all.
