What is life anymore? Is it something that you just walk in, and spontaneously spurt into a sprint? Or is it something that you drag yourself by, day by day? But alas, perhaps it’s something that isn’t about the pace, but about the activities spent between the sprints, walks, and leaps.
I haven’t written in far too long, nearly halfway with pregnancy, nearing the summer, and wondering how much more complicated my life will be, because I know it will. Or maybe it’ll just get better, I will have to find out I suppose.
It’s no fun when you have dreams, dreams of your fears, dreams of your dreams, and dreams that are as tilted as this world is solemn.
That’s when you have to make your reality better than your dreams, because your dreams may not come true, or you simply may not want them to. You have to hold on to what is good, and let go of the bad, you have to shove it out of your life and scour it until it wants to leave, then push will come to shove, and you’ll only have to let it bleed. But you’ll produce more life than a fountain produces crisp, content falls of refreshment; All if you seek it. It’s all on you lad, it’s all on you lassie, go and conquer what you can, because a life un-lived, is a life down the disposal.
