I'm in the airport and am reminded of all the opportunity and possibility. A million dreams spiralling out and the airport is the conduit which could take us there. How easy it would be to just come back some time, book a flight and be free? When at home I forget the freedom, I see the end and never live for the moment. Everything will fall apart in the end and I am immediately undermined by the self-evident transiency of the schemes. This is countered by a desire not to harm the future and treat impulse and impetus as villains needing a leash, despite the future also being a thrall of the aforementioned fatalism! Thus there is only despair in the juggling of worthless objects until the day the curtain closes on it all.
I hope I can follow through on a task, living for today and seeing it as end in itself if only for a little while. A caged bird needs to spread its wings. I just hope my Fi won't find excuses as I'm weary of being trapped and cast adrift.