Seven07's Journal

Sporadic Insightfulness

I think the first thought that comes to mind, well after "fuck!", is "what happens next"?  Well anger happened, anger of self-pity for having another triumph get shrouded over with mud and disaster.

I was born an eternal optimist which is my gift curse that has both tripped and drug me through life.  Any victory I recall has always been bittersweet for me.  I really resent that.  I resent that I can't seem to have an untarnished trophy of thought for anything I worked hard to receive in life.  I always thought my work deserved more fruition than that.  But that's the nature of work.  "Work" doesn't always work the same for everyone.  You can't compare yourself to anyone who doesn't work as hard as you and gets more.

On the flip side, I always keep working hard and chugging away because I still believe that I am working towards something. A place.  Towards contentedness--ease.  Not ease from having to work at it, but ease from dealing with discomfort and misery.


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