You just want to lean back, rest your head and let ‘it’ life play its tune. If only we could just stand and listen or sway when the rythm hits. That is not the way. We are active members of this carnival and if we do not spin the wheel we miss.
Sure there is shattered glass and choices that were better not made. But our mismatches are the crisscross of escape. We are not passengers to nowhere. Instead we are dreams undertaken.
Chin up to that last punch and busy yourself. Idle days are fragrant lust. True desire is in the hustle that rustles leaves. Go out there and get hurt, I dare you. Just maybe you form into that invention.