Curbing our complexities is a charm unto itself. I’ve lost long strings of hours or a huge stack of days to the coding of panic activated through correct cause to pure speculation. We bear a heaving law of caving to our own imaginations. Unfurling the folds of our convolutions enough so that we may polish our purposes into true being involves modes of morphing. It’s taking tenacity with charisma to whip them together blender-style so smoothly that dissatisfaction could melt in your mouth. Herein is where you cannot so clearly tell the mutant from the marvel. For all of our contemplative quandary there sits a cleverness for bewitching chagrin. Inscribing unflinching assuredness includes dismantling the governance of malaise. When we allow our transformation into a trance dance deriving our certitude we may overcome anything. The progeny of prosperity is belief in positivity.
The luxury I advocate has nothing to do with money. It cannot be bought. It is the reward of those who have no fear of discomfort. ~Jean Cocteau
The latter language of my 2020 occurrence has been taunting en par with the din of part-timer fallacies. This year has tightened the tone of those historically untoward truths hovering. The confusion of creepy spasms that you thought had ghosted for good only to reappear too readily as you were pinching yourself for your optimism. Those stiff aches who aren’t easily evicted from our brains. Why I can sometimes stare out the window as monumental minutes move the sun from right to left can feel a lingering haunt. Otherwise, such a reprieve has taught me my needs for stress release. Mostly, havoc is about having the balls to mortify your mistakes by way of erecting indomitable consistency. For the sake of everything shame, we should don unshrinking synonyms of bravery. It’s waking to walking indifferently with pride to the bane of tussled Tuesday’s, any day, or every day.
Erosion might erupt at any moment. There you are slithering your booty to some hot pop-star musical number planning the idea of the next holiday with your heartthrob conjoined in deep coitus amidst equally ravenous cuisine when you receive terminal news of their loving treason. Is it just me, or is ‘adultery’ a misplaced deployment of the word ‘adult’? Consenting to humor is merely a method for one lane of my process when dealing with discombobulated tidings. I tend to conserve pretty solid shock the initial twenty-four whenever livelihood lobs me suffocation. So punchy with astonishment, I can forget anything sickening has begun sweeping closer. Then, something wicked a second sun comes. Two rotations pierces my bubble. These hurdles of subsequent seconds start to tear me apart. The period from hour twenty-five until my arsenal of allure has shown my asinine blow its assailants is a serious prick, albeit no impossibility.
’Cause inside you’re working
Thou shalt not be unglued forever. ‘Hope’ is a buzzword that’s traversed eternal epochs. I appreciate that I personally default in that direction. But by zero-dipping-into-the-negative-space means does that hardly leave me safe from the flummoxed concerto of contaminated tumbling life entails. In fact, the heathens of my hellacious chatter often vanish amongst the throngs of melancholy others are shouting. People are so used to my upbeat nature their fray doesn’t approve of room for my whimpering. Yet, our individual tombs of torn are actually a unified affront. What’s fizzling my urges could be purging yours simultaneously. Consequently, supposing a foxy philosophy of fo’ shizzle inconvenience for the very trouble(s) perplexing us is the best hex. The more we may swerve our curses as ultimate comforts of conscience conversion what tries to beat us won’t eat us alive.
I formulate any roasting in the juices of my frustration to a sniper trying to sleep. There’s the expertise of having survived, while constantly collecting plenty of paraphernalia for bracing one’s psyche. However, you can gang up on your grim reapings. Get a sombrero for anything somber you’re facing. Your visions of thoughtful wonderment deserve copious rays of vivacious daylight. In accordance with a conception like Einstein time, which offers the chameleon of clock-tickingness, it’s your choice to curate the amount of resentment you wish. If I’d rather not squat with self-pity pending another solo Christmas, I can overflow my skirt with the shores of Pacific sea turtles and family gaming, sing-a-longs, or moshing to the pasture gobbles of Mexican meets Hawaiin gastronomy. Viewing abuses as blessing riddles is momentous. Our eurekas come through enchanting each of our experiences.
May we aim for tempting any lottery-winning-elation from all of our vexations.