'Not Enough Deep' - a nice holiday so far

A nice holiday is being enjoyed so far. 

Like the Lady of Shallot, I drift down the stream of this week, the musty cushions of this faery craft carrying me to a timely demise. 

Where I am now should be appreciated. 

Curious as to what lies ahead, I drift down the stream of this week in my faery craft, eager to discover what this mysterious holiday has in store for me. The musty cushions of my vessel, a fitting reminder of the adventure yet to come, buoy my anticipation with every passing wave. What secrets await around the bend?

Drifting down the stream of this merry week like the Lady of Shallot, I bask in the soft cushions of my fairy craft and soak up the joy of this timely holiday! I'm truly blessed to enjoy this moment, and I'm determined to make the most of it.

As I glide downstream this week like the Lady of Shallot, I allow myself to be embraced by the comforting cushions of this faery craft and take in the moment of what a wonderful holiday I am having. I am truly grateful to be enjoying this moment!

The Lady of Shallot’s song of sorrows echoes through my mind as I drift on this week's river. The musty cushions of this faery craft slowly carry me toward the dreaded end of my break. Even though I should appreciate the present, I can't help but worry about what's to come.

The above is an AI rendering of my writing. As you can see, it is rich, a voice of excitement that rings harmoniously with the white waters beside the boat. Will rhythm be experienced as well? The monosyllables of usual expression exist for a purpose and reason, wielding the words that are recognised by all. 

I am intrigued by the AI rendering of my words, which seem to have a certain resonance. I cannot help but wonder - will its rhythms be as engaging as the sound of lapping waves on the side of a boat? Even the simplest of words have a purpose and reach the understanding of all - what will be the outcome of such a poetic phrase?

This writing is engaging and rich: where is the language that I might use myself under pressure? Can I remain with myself? When I close my eyes, what lays beyond the door to my mind palace? A mere hareem? 

When I close my eyes and open the doors of my mind palace, what lies beyond? Is it an exotic harem, a palace of my own inner thoughts, or something even more mystical? What happens when I can no longer rely on external forces to keep me entertained and must turn inward to stay engaged? What lies within the depths of my own consciousness?

Why this desire to be focused?

I sit here with one more 'day' of teaching to go. Celebrations are thin.  

I am less tired than I have been in my teaching career. I can teach to a high standard with minimal planning. The angst that I once felt teaching in Beijing and Scarborough has disappeared, perhaps entirely. People who I taught with once have gone. 

I am underappreciated, although unlikely through malicious intention. Instead, my presence is liked and used by others. My skills and attention mean something. 

I am really quite bored. 

Breathe into my belly. Feel alive. 

I saw a photo of an old friend: how fat they have become. 

How fat I have become. 

It is time I think to begin to appreciate myself before I die. I have made a reasonable niche for myself for the length of time it might last. 

I want to stay with myself. 

Being with the various cultures, staying with them...