Strait on til Morning

You can thank my washing machine for this post.  I opt’d to play Borderlands 2 until my wash was done.  Not only did it take far longer then it should have for no real discernible reason, but it also didn’t actually do it right either.  So, while I’m waiting for my clothing to get did, I figured it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get reflective on the last 6ish weeks.

Certainly more productive then sitting there watching my laundry go through the spin cycle.

The entirety of how I felt about things over the last month or so would, essentially, not translate into words.  Or, that is to say, it would translate into more of them then I have the time to write in any span of time less then a week.  So…let’s take this down a notch.

Let us say you go to bed one night with an idea of how the rest of your life will be.  Let us say, for the purpose of argument, that you do not suspect that your life will be much to talk about when it is over, and you are just trying to get some level of peace with that.  You go to bed with that idea the next night too.  And then the next night.

Repeat until you’ve gone to bed with this idea for just long enough that you not only don’t remember the first night…you’re too apathetic to give a rat’s ass.  You look for joy in the little things, as best as you can.  You try to take solace in what you have, and where your life hasn’t been all that bad.  Essentially, though, it’s still a pretty depressing place to be.

Then, one day, something changes that idea of what will be…to what could be.

In one moment, the inevitability of a rather desolate future seems legitimately less certain.  It seems like, just maybe, your own existence may become better then you though it was going to be.

Oh, things could go wrong; when can’t they?  Life has a way of making grandiose certainty collapse with a shattering crash.  Yet, it’s enough to bolster you.  It’s enough to rekindle something inside of you.

In one moment?  It’s no longer the end….it’s the beginning.

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