Fortitude.

Moving away is a curious thing.

When one leaves their home, a million minutiae are not accounted for. The physical and some emotional are thought of as things to be remedied, but still, you cannot account for all.

These days of acclimation bring despondency. Is it a phase?

Feeling as though you cannot adhere to a place in the world, or society. Floating out in the universe and the negative space. That is where you belong.

An attempt to rein in the ennui, which is how you categorize all these feelings and actions you don't deign to accomplish. Procrastination is not the word. Ennui.

This attempt is one that is incapable of accomplishment, and this is known, because this is not the first attempt.

It is considered a failing to be incapable of commanding the organized society as it is known in the modern day. But when one has the initiative, they sometimes forget all of those ideas they used to have, in favor of the ones that fit you in. The most pressing of matters, though, is when the capability is absolutely existent, and has been tried and proven before. And yet you do not use it. The thought of burgeoning out once more with these intents makes you feel exhausted. And so you sleep, or do not move. The passing fancy and appetite for attention and success as it is judged by your peers is just that, fickle and trite. The longing to be let alone, somewhere remote, so that you may write down words that may never be found is always there. It is selfish to want to change the world, or be remembered as a legacy.

Hardly any one person is trying to exist peacefully, as an organism on the planet. They want to excel in their society, which is understandable, though not commendable, nor condemnable. If it were possible to exist with a few creature comforts, as was not too long ago. But it no longer is an avenue that can be pursued, lest one searches for it with currency that is not to be had. There is no job for someone who wants no occupation but their own.

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I like when I come across a shop that says they sell 'gifts', because it is so vague a term. Who decided what a gift was? Is this a result of the norm of civilization and what can be given as gifts the most often without fear of faux pas? Teddy bears; everywhere.

We came from the desert.