I don’t want to do this anymore.
The world is not doing any worse than it ever was.
We’re not going to hell in a handbasket.
We made up hell to convince ourselves this wasn’t so bad after all.
We imagine that things are going to get better.
We offer thoughts and prayers to make it so.
I don’t want to do this anymore.
I never thought I would get this old.
I never dreamed that as the world gets smaller and smaller, so would I.
When you say your first word, it’s hard to imagine running out of things to say.
But it happens.
At some point past your natural expiration date
you see yourself fading away.
I don’t want to do this anymore.
I’m having conversations to hear myself talk,
and I can’t stand the sound of my own voice.
Every straw man I can stand up
is on fire.
I don’t want to do this anymore.
I’m just so tired.
I don’t want to do this anymore.
I don’t want to talk about it.
I don’t want to grow, evolve, or develop into something else.
I don’t care what I’ve left undone.
It doesn’t matter.
I don’t want to do this anymore.
But what else is there?
19 NOV 2025
© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.
Leave a Comment