Biding my time

Sigh.  What would it take to make me feel alive again? I mean, yes, there are moments when I feel alive and worthwhile.  But those are few and far between these days.  I remember when I had ambition, desire, the belief that I could do anything that I put my mind to. I lost a couple of times...lost big.  I ultimately was forced to sacrifice my relationship with my daughter in order to end a war that would have destroyed us all.  Instead, losing that war destroyed only me.  I could have won, had I been able to hold out, had I been willing to see my daughters split in half by the battle.  But I gave it up, and with it I lost my ability to think I could change the world. I can't seem to make myself want to write again.  That's what hurts the most.  My virtual book is covered in virtual dust...my mind full of muck when I try to work on it.  Of course, I haven't really tried of late...no desire. So I go on from one day to the next losing time and slipping further into the morrass of middle age. I don't want to just bide my time until I die of old age.  I want to live in-between. Oh well...tomorrow is another day. Alphonsus