(TOIL)
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Why are we weigh’d upon with heaviness,
And utterly consumed with sharp distress,
While all things else have rest from weariness?
All things have rest: why should we toil alone,
We only toil, who are the first of things,
And make perpetual moan,
Still from one sorrow to another thrown;
Nor ever fold our wings,
And cease from wanderings,
Nor steep our brows in slumber’s holy balm;
Nor harken what the inner spirit sings,
“There is no joy but calm!”—
Why should we only toil, the roof and crown of things?
Choric Song II from Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s
‘The Lotos Eaters’
DPS:
I’ll tell ya what used to kill me… coming home late at night, and finding them huddled on the couch, numb, at one with the TV set. I’d reach the top of the stairs and greet them. They’d say ‘Hello’ – but just that. They’d say it without sending a glance my way. They were always too absorbed in whatever it was they were watching. As soon as I realized this, I mean as soon as I realized the inhumanity of it all I decided it was time to pack my things and get outta there.
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