‘Perfect’ finds you, sitting with a hunch back, falling apart, breaking down. And still, there is reason… there is rhyme. There is hope and occasionally there are smiles. This here is a crooked, twisted and entwined version of perfect - but perfect it is nonetheless.
This is how life is - though most days the vision is not quite this clear. The weight of unimportant, insignificant trivia hunts me down and pins my back to the wall. I could break free from the clutches if I tried. The problem is that half the time I am in denial. I know if I acknowledged my weakness, that would be partial victory. But I sit and pretend.
Quite why this urge to close my eyes as the first route to escape, I am not sure.
Surrender is a beautiful word, but not if you choose a wrong master. And the fact that you get to choose your own master, doesn’t it imply that you are after all your own keeper? Perhaps, it is choice that differentiates us all in that case.
Just today in a conversation with wtp I said in jest, that what we bring to the universe, is the mirror reflection of what the universe also gives back to us. Not that different to company pension schemes, where the employer pays in the same amount as you do into your future pot.
If I know this, and believe this, then why do I stop contributing to my future pot every now and then?
Pain is a reminder of being alive, but it is numbness which is the true nemesis. I can surrender to failure and loss, but I cannot for a minute say that I don’t care.
