No, I said Sisyphus…geez.

Anyhow. Lately I have been feeling like Sisyphus and this does not bode well. Do you know the myth of Sisyphus (apologies to those with a lisp)? Here, let me tell it:

Greek mythology tells the story of the king Sisyphus who was punished for various and sundry deeds, not worth mentioning here, by being forced to push an enormous boulder up a steep hill in the underworld only to have him slip from his grasp near the top and roll back down. The catch is he is forced to do this for all eternity, motivated by the promise that if he succeeds he can be free.

It does not matter that somewhere inside he knows he will never be free, the faint hope that the next push will lead to elusive success keeps him going…which is the point of the whole torture.

Anyhow, lately I have been feeling a lot like Sisyphus and this bothers me because it is essentially a symptom of a loss of hope…something I am not fond of losing frankly. I suppose the feeling also reminds me of how paper thin my optimism has been lately and how easy it is for someone to take it, crumple it up in their hands and throw it back in my face.

Well, enough of that. Sisyphus is a myth and so are some forms of pain…besides – I have boulders to push.