You know how it is: the ups and downs, ebb and flow of energy.
Work and homelife become a delicate balance, and the stress effects your health. You can try to stay positive and take actions to stay on top of everything- but I'm telling you, life always has those moments where your defenses break and you want to give into the diluge and let the world crumble all around you. The measure of who you are is how you respond.
My petty carrot at the end of the stick, the whip that motivates me to Row! Row! Row! and continue onward in this miserable sodomy act of living is that others have it worse and always will.
It's about looking into the maelstrom and seeing the fear in everyone around you. We're all on this planet spiraling together with the same worries, some more or less delusional than others. We buy our water in bottles.
I tend to lose myself in writing as a way to stay in control- lucid and spinning fiction in every direction.
We continue to do what we do because it is all we know to do. The doing of other things would require both an understanding and a want of the other. Sometimes I think I want something else, something unseen or beyond my reach. The closer I come to understanding it I retreat back to what is familiar. Is the new thing truly distasteful or do I prefer the comforts of what is already known?
Work and homelife become a delicate balance, and the stress effects your health. You can try to stay positive and take actions to stay on top of everything- but I'm telling you, life always has those moments where your defenses break and you want to give into the diluge and let the world crumble all around you. The measure of who you are is how you respond.
My petty carrot at the end of the stick, the whip that motivates me to Row! Row! Row! and continue onward in this miserable sodomy act of living is that others have it worse and always will.
It's about looking into the maelstrom and seeing the fear in everyone around you. We're all on this planet spiraling together with the same worries, some more or less delusional than others. We buy our water in bottles.
I tend to lose myself in writing as a way to stay in control- lucid and spinning fiction in every direction.
We continue to do what we do because it is all we know to do. The doing of other things would require both an understanding and a want of the other. Sometimes I think I want something else, something unseen or beyond my reach. The closer I come to understanding it I retreat back to what is familiar. Is the new thing truly distasteful or do I prefer the comforts of what is already known?