Maybe it's work, maybe it's other stuff, maybe it's me—whatever the case, I've been a lot less tolerant lately. Not good, since gentleness often isn't my strong suit in the first place. It's that familiar feeling of being fed up, not just with things that are wrong, but even more with all the lies we tell ourselves/others and the compromises we make in order to live with the wrongness. I say "we" because I think I'm angry with myself on these scores at least as much if not more than I am with the world.
All in all, it's a pretty unhappy and solitary place; not quite the image of abundant life. Hard to get out and hard to let anyone in. It's more like bad weather—it's not forever by any means, but it lingers as long as it likes and there's not much I can do about that. I can only decide how I'm going to live with it and get through it.