Sometimes I’m just tired. And it isn’t the tired of a long productive day, where one can gently lay their head to rest at the end, satisfied with what they have accomplished.
It is the tiredness of ten hundred thousand waves beating against the hull of an old ship.
That ship is a working ship – it is still in service.
And though the hull has been patched time and time again, on every voyage out, the bolts strain a little more against the heaving ocean.
And every time that ship wonders, will this be its last time watching the sunset over the open water?
Laughs and Lobotomies 