It’s becoming harder to believe I’m the author controlling my destiny. Because if that’s true, I clearly suck at this.
I’m paying my karmic debt, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep up appearances.
I've given and contributed a million times over and did not once stop to think about what I could possibly be left with.
31 days to transform the future with the news stories of my past.
I used to think I was missing out on what's going on out there. Now, I think people are missing out on what I'm cultivating in here.
I'm not willing to fight that fight myself and have made peace with that. But maybe I shouldn't.
If the world is repeating what I've been saying, there's an echo in here that will one day bounce back to me.
If I keep making the conscious choice to turn things around, there's no way this ends in a wreck.
Maybe what I'm doing isn't even classified as complaining. It's just how it is right now,
Perhaps whatever mirror I was gazing into is better left unassembled.