A maddening pace exceeding even the most lofty expectations...
All tracks converging, with the thunderous traffic of manifest new opportunity raging though without caution or hesitation. Surely a derailment lies imminently ahead.
Yet this furore masks out many a simple pleasure. Free time has now become a scarce commodity. Thus an uncanny withdrawn mood descends; like a fog of isolation that brings an unwelcome chill, sapping the heat drawn from such incandescent achievement.
The once featureless horizon, of the future yet to come; has suffered a virulent rush of purpose and structure. So much as to even stretch credulity, while bringing along a creeping habitual fear that all which is built must one day crumble.
So the dark drips of doubt fall into the deep pool, polluting what should be vibrant and clear. An unpardonable exercise in self-induced despondency.
This will of course lift, as with all cycles of conviction it is a passing fancy.