This pandemic is a series of mixed metaphors and nonsequiturs. It has become a Rolodex of what-ifs and whatnot. It’s caused a lot of interpersonal stigmas. It has ruined people’s lives.
This pandemic is a series of mixed metaphors and nonsequiturs. It has become a Rolodex of what-ifs and whatnot. It’s caused a lot of interpersonal stigmas. It has ruined people’s lives.
Sit down for a while. Take unmitigated breaks. Get a sip of water.
2020 is definitely not a people person.
So try to make sense of the senseless. Call it a deadlock. Call it anything you want. Declare an impasse. Do whatever you need to do. Find a million wrongs and turn them into rights.
Just promise yourself to never lose sight of your capability to hope. Because in the end, you’ll understand…
You have a choice to still be happy. This pandemic is not to blame.
Yes. It’s an impasse. A huge inconvenient painful wound that you can never whisk away so soon.
It’s hard when people that you care for walk away. But it’s even harder when the life you’ve known so well does the same.
There’s nothing you can do.
All you have to do is wait for your transcendence. And wish that things were back the way they were…
Related posts:
Forget the past. Look back on memories but don’t let memories define who you are. Forgive everything. Embrace anything. Stay vertical. And maybe most important of all- stop bothering God with your shi...
The bones of those who died before you They’re scattered all around me They form a ray of black light Dark and soggy, twisted, muddied, round Why did you let go
This “thing of beauty” will soon be dead. Consider this the last time that I wrote for you…“
Lucky is the man who finds that part of you that makes your soul disintegrate a little everywhere. That’s what this spot can do. That spot is you.