A lot of things to tell in a post, I guess, but let me start
describing life by giving you an analogy.
Imagine somebody is currently holding a cup of hot latte
without a sleeve. First, that somebody is gonna feel a striking hot fuss but
later on, after couple of minutes, the heat starts to vanish. It does not
vanish. Energy remains, heat is energy, it only transforms. It moves to the
hand. It spreads to the whole cup. Finally, our somebody will think the coffee
has been cool off. When this somebody sips it, it still burns the tongue.
Our somebody’s hand is the one that gets used to.
Talking about life and people is very appealing to me.
It includes heartbreak, struggles, and tears. But it also
includes courageous steps, running through hell, stop listening to some
shrieks, and carrying on what?
Life.
For all question you might have, for all your thoughts that
I might be something.
Back to the analogy. well, I’m just being the hand. I’m just
living like the hand.
Coping.
The pain strikes, the longing and desperation surely were there but are they necessary? Are
they worth any celebrating?
I just want you to friggin realize that being a victim is
not something marvelous.
At least not in your own story. At least not in mine, too.
