“Some things are hard to write about. After something happens to you, you go to write it down, and either you over dramatize it, or underplay it, exaggerate the wrong parts or ignore the important ones. At any rate, you never write it quite the way you want to." -Slyvia PlathAs i take in God's glory in full each day, witnessing the majestic wonders of every corner of all the places i've been to, there's still that lingering thought that never leaves. i have long guessed that the finite self can never fathom what lies beneath the surface of the life i'm living, nor am i able to envision what lies ahead, but the soul still calls out hard and long for a release so liberating the tears can run free. And for once, not out of desperation from a distressed and dissatisfied voice. Little did i know.. time has worn me out. Time, like a thief, has stolen from me perhaps not so much the days of glamor, but days and weeks and months of what life i can put to use and accomplish even the simplest pleasure on earth.
“Tomorrow, you promise yourself, will be different, but tomorrow is too often a repetition of today.” Author James T. Mccay
And that is where my grief lies.
Where and when does change come into play? Where and when does change, change?
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