New day, new year. The prior year was a bleak and droll affair that I'm glad to be done with. Two tragic deaths, a near fatal car accident, major changes at work... the universe moves in mysterious ways. Now to latch onto the "idea" of a "fresh start" on a "new year" as if the chimera of a calendrical convention can usher in a renewed sense of purpose. New beginnings are always present though not so in the prison of the mind tied down by a "foolish consistency; the hobgoblin of little minds".

I cannot stop this inexorable ride of temporal progression. The years march onward like diligent soldiers in a war against existence. Every moment slips away from me as grands of sand in an hour glass to never be seen again. I lose and lose only to be distracted by events in the present and the promise of "something" in the future. I already see a black and white photograph, dusty and torn, in some abandoned structure in a lonely field many many years into the future of me and my loved one and cats and family and life-- it's all gone and some citizen of the future gazes upon the photograph in nostalgia and wonder at where these ghosts have gone to. I and all I know are in an eternal oblivion. Scraps of thoughts here and there, marked notes, photos, journals decaying in the air and sun of a new world are the only records of a life that has vanished from time and minds.

This is not ennui, this is the Nausea. This is the Horror. Gaze into the future and all I see is an endless darkness eclipsing all that has happened to me...