This was just another one of his low lows, he kept reminding himself.. the pain was superficial, and it was more than likely he would remember none of it in a month's time... But that did not change its pull on the present, and the fact that it was carving holes in his daily life. Without the motivation to begin each day anew, he woke each morning- or afternoon, as was usually the case- with the same dread and aimless longing that had kept him from sleep the night prior.
That nothing helped was nothing new, and hope was a double edged blade, giving him one thing in life to hold his life to the world, and giving his thoughts- and the Jester's words- a target.
He couldn't be sure the thought was his, but the question remained-
"How does one find the energy to continue to live in a world that has so little to offer?"
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