For NaPoWriMo Eve - prompt here.
pronounce me dead
at the water cooler, entomb me
with my half-empty coffee
and remark that I passed
doing what I loved -
bringing truth to absurdity.
(Or perhaps the reverse.)
Ask Camus if I am like his hero,
steadfast in pushing my boulder,
smiling in descent
after it rushes back past me.
They tell me it is unwise
to build a existence upon
a foundation of the mundane -
I wager it far more foolish
to end my own life
and persist only in servitude.
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