Atomic interruptions are zenith gurus. When a ransacking of our bubbles occurs it’s irrationally tumultuous. Life’s layers offer a lot of learning through varied lashings. Usually, we’re not planning for a personal hellfire. I mean, some worldly weirdos might be drama-freaks who welcome agonizing hours in their days. Although I’m gonna guesstimate that those are unlikely to be reading my subjective leaks and deserve that nonsense if they’re seduced by any of it! But, in short, most of us don’t intentionally map a harrowing route, stock up on traumatic supplies, and set up a horrendous campout for any premeditated short to long haul. Nonetheless, what we may be dealt outside of our rainbows to humdrum composure is a whopping stimulation of severity. It’s these ornate oracles that delineate the target(s) from where our core has gotten off course. You can predict there will always be prophets in the punches you receive.
Sometimes you must dangle your feet in the water in order to attract the sharks. ~Sherlock Holmes, Enola Holmes
Gargling our own groveling can be of persistent use. Shrewdly surmising any sourness sources draining our delight is vital. For, if you wait until the universe delivers a wallop, you could discover the acidity is lethal. I hadn’t expressly asked my pathetic patterns to repeat. However, all so easily I fell in another hole, the same type of trap as my befores, and took the bait just as eagerly as every othertime. I was, once again, playing the role of the hook, the line, and sinking myself. Regret is actually ineffective. What’s needed is the opposing force of futility ~ our dear friend: forgiveness. Your disembarkation from internal punishment is the pageant for mastery. Sizing up anyone or anything else is a competition for losers. Kneeling unto our corruption is a solid start toward rectifying solutions. Resoundingly a rebound in this instance is cause for celebration. Our individual diviners ought to be our doctrines of philosophy.
Very multifarious things have nagged me endlessly. Then, there is the restless breed hustling castigation so huffily they take the lead. Heeding the paths of least defiance seems to be a human enigma. We’re prone for steering too many vertical to horizontal delirium. Well beyond a few, I’ve developed assaults of the more rupturous brand. I credit my lastest for retaining a permanent placeholder of the cantankerous caliber. That cancer I thought only others confronted became my drag race. Was this my ‘it’, the rest of me, my end in sight? My introspection clock ticked slower and faster than I’d ever known possible. Fifty-seven odious days origin through crescendo to recent results closure. Yet, I don’t want to forget the horrific bits so quickly. Without them, I’m that much closer to befalling ultra-sensitive mistakes heartlessly. Their bricks are now part of my mortar’s mantra.
The lobby of my soul is adorned with lush photos describing the vibrancy of my livelihood. Being an adoring photog of odds to ends of our Earth, I perpetually tinged with capturing the spirit of living. Meanwhile, there’s invariably a reverse side to my images. The obscure nature of our existence broods its own alchemy. We shouldn’t strive to trim the darkness. Rather, I think we’re supposed to thwart exorbitant foolishness. I hope I’ll forever be learning from my poisonous growth. Its hysteria certainly defined my persona for a strategic interval. I’m equally polishing my daily thanksgiving due to the diagnosis. Our feverish impasses are simply asking to communicate an avalanche of better options. As with a residue of insults, until we choose the osmosis of peace we’re transmitting easy passage for all stages of irritation. May yours never be linked, like mine was, to the system of cancer staging.
My gratitude for my carcinoma’s stalemate sorting itself in record time, compared to countless people I’ve poured my eyes over stories about the last few months along with beloved friends extinct from the dreaded disease, is ginormous. In fact, I doubt I’ll ever expel all of the words to explain the tumult of emotions across to the rumpus of savage violation disruptions. I was a commotion of devotion mixed with a puddling of terror-filled tears. Malignancy is such indignation. From a pT3b melanoma late August to October 15th’s pathology report bedecked with the beautiful word “benign” four times over, one for each of my four lymph nodes that had been surgically invaded to check my full body for signs of cancer spreading, I hadn’t truly realized the fullness of a breath of air in my complete presence. Who cares if shadows were my modern ally, so long as I was safe. Besides, I’d been taught the brilliant difference between seeking shade and throwing it.
Let any odiferous life ornaments bear instruction for your survival.