Some sort of epiphany


I found this photograph while surfing the internet today. It hit me hard and fast.

I have always felt imprisoned, I had realized that the source of my frustrations spawn from me and me alone, yet I have never realized, in one succinct sentence, just what trapped me.


It makes sense.

I believe I am destined for greatness, and thus each day I spend bored, unaccomplished, and watching the hours tick away I die a little more inside. At the same time, I don’t try as hard as I can or should. I rely excessively on faith, on the vague belief that I will accomplish something one day, that I will not fail.
Thus I am trapped by the hope of escape, and merely hoping. I am trapped by a wish that overwhelms me so much that it has caused me to do nothing but wish.

AI believe help will come one day. I keep waiting for miracles

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“You can weave your life…

“You can weave your life so long––only so long, and then a thing in the world out of your control will tug at one vital thread and leave you patternless and subdued.”

Patricia A. McKillip, The Forgotten Beasts of Eld

What a marvelous novel, I could not put it down at all. I have been away from the joy of reading for far too long, like a child strayed from her home, mind numbed by a world with a painted face, a clown whose heart, beneath a myriad of colors and tricks, lies as hollow and ordinary as a rubber ball.

Okay, maybe I’ve been reading too many fantasy novels.

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