we fret. like the fish and birds, for we also are able to be hurt. any pleasure we are given can be taken away and pain can and will come so we fret. we have all had our toys lost and stolen, our heart broken and our knees skinned. we fear the chances that come our way and complain when they do not arrive. we grow up and face new battles, new challenges and our enemies are found within our shortcomings, our ability to fend them off is both a matter of time and luck.

for its always too much or not enough. life never feeds us the right amount. it never allows us to be completely content, a bit more or less. another round, it was too much. too little time or too long of a trip. too dodgy, or not dodgy enough. the sun is too bright, the temperature too cold, just a bit of an odd part or strange part of that person or situation. its always just a bit off.

so we move on. we accept the way it is, the chapped lips, the subtle pains and chipped screens. we compromise with our wives and on our chores. a flawed palate the begin with. a cavity drilled into our mouth by someone who we barely knew, and then the cavities under that cavity grows. our desire for sugar does not go away neither does our urge for more, of anything. something to keep us occupied as the seasons and days change, as the foliage falls and the time spans.

time does not heal everything, but acceptance will.

unkown-