As my two week Christmas holiday comes to - a close I find myself thinking (as I always do after a longer break) back to the real world. Back to wage slavery and a chronic lack of time, not only for leisure but simple labour reproduction and household labour. A part of me is still so conditoned that I can’t help but think of breaks from work as fantastical and dream like; a cruel taste of how wonderful life can be when one isn’t beholden to a capitalist master. When one has time and space to breathe and be and enjoy the cosmic miracle that life even exists.
Every break I have from work feels like it goes by in a flash. If life was not suffering then it would just be a twinkle of a euphoric reverie that would be over the moment it started. The suffering at least helps to pace it out a bit.