How much of our lives are spent in forgiving the ugly? The ugly in me and the ugly in you. What is it that leads us to relentless hurting and unselfish forgiving? People have a lot of patience when they are not asked to wait. Every passing second, we are waiting. Waiting on something beautiful and wondrous to happen and to leave us forever changed. Very phenomenal, of course.
Everyone wants magic and chocolate fudge. All the time. But I want more. And I am awkward about my expectations. But I will forgive myself for that, too.
It’s almost 2am. This year is ending. A lot of breakthroughs but many more standstills.
Average will never satisfy me. Yet all I yearn for at the moment is ordinary, stable and dependable.
This is my introduction. I’m hoping someone out there likes it. I’m trying to be attractive here. Or in this case, horrible. I must remind you, my expectations are awry.
I travel and thoughts are thought. I sleep and dreams are dreamt. Then someone asks me, “What is it that you want with life?” So I mutter incoherently and I’m trying to smile, and they’re trying to smile.