Stasis

He was a slave to the past.  He found it virtually impossible to let go of the past. The past held him as its permanent hostage.  The past was his de facto master. And yet this dismal situation he found himself ensnared within was entirely volitional, entirely self-fulfilling, entirely of his own making.  He could quite easily have extricated himself from the dreary dynamic he was stuck in if he so desired. He could have broken free from the unwieldy chains and readily escaped if he truly chose, but he just didn’t want to. He was opposed to doing it. Strictly speaking the truth now, this everyday guy—this “Mr. Average” guy—was immanently satisfied with his current existence and therefore rebuffed any and all changes that came his way, obliviously ignoring the fact his present life was admittedly a sorry, sordid one that held scant hope for redemption while his future offered nothing more uplifting than a daunting megadose of the same wearisome bullshit.  But here’s the critical point to remember: He was CONTENT with the life he was leading even if he wasn’t outwardly happy with it, simply because said life fit him as tidily as that trusty old pair of Red Wing work boots sitting over in the corner. Change?  No no…..Hell no!!!…..he wanted no part of THAT at this delayed stage of his life.  Why upset the applecart and busy himself with fixing something that wasn’t even broken?  Huh? HUH?!  That wouldn’t make one bit of sense now, would it?!  He would much rather keep his antennae pulled down safely right next to his side, fly well beneath the radar, and stick to the monotonous life he knew so well, notwithstanding the fact the so-called “life” in question didn’t bring him true happiness, pleasure…..or even a minute degree of satisfaction.