So, I sat down today after
barely getting any sleep yesterday night, and thought of my life from a whole
new perspective.
When we were little, my elder
sister and I played a game with cards. We would try and pile them up in a
manner as to create a miniature figure of the Eiffel tower which my father had
put up a picture of in our room. Every time we got close to completing our
little project, the ‘tower’ fell…crushing our tiny hearts. We tried it with a
little more tact…we built one layer, and took a photo of each as evidence of
our grit. We made it to the top a few times, but nothing ever really lasted
long enough to show dad when he came back home in the evening. Our only
evidence being our photos, which at the time were not even instant.
My point? My life is exactly
the same. Once I get control of a certain area, another phase comes tumbling to
the ground. I gather up that part, another escapes me. It’s like playing with
many balloons; you can never quite get them all at the same time, unless they
were to deflate.
Who wants a deflated balloon anyway?
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