I Am Tired, Even of Hope

A Paradox After the Election

It is 7:27 PM, Wednesday, November 6th, and I am tired, even of hope.
Or maybe it is hope, that’s grown old, and now helplessly tired of me.

I long for a place of equanimity, where nothing can easily attach itself
to what feels like permanently me. Choosing “now,” is likely all there is.

And suspecting that at least half of this feels like some kind of paradox, 
I must first choose “yes,” and then at the same time “no,” as is needed.

–Dale Biron