Thinking on something I just said ..

" .. maybe it's okay to slip into mundaneness every once in a while like a secret vice that obliterates your personal sun and then lets it shine free when the hazy rain washes away the ignominy of reality."

I sit and suffer my own feelings of nothingness every day now. Sleep, work, eat, sleep work, eat .. with moments of clarity .. only moments .. that include my children, Mom, BJ and the slight touch of others. My deep rooted ennui has gone on for so long I hadn't realized it was still here.

Where is my inner joy and peace? What happened to the soul of me?

I feel it somewhere deep inside .. but can't seem to grasp it fully. Like a soft soothing blanket you'd had all your life .. the scent of you imbedded in the cloth forever, the stains of life creating intricate and amusing patterns and spots and every way you hold it/caress it/cover yourself with it .. is that perfect "sweet spot" that feels like no other. And this .. this I cannot grasp .. my mental fingers grip tight to the edges, to the trim .. that is left .. every razor sharp tear shearing pieces free to be lost in that undulating and ululating sea of ennui.