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Fates Know Better
Melancholic inspiration brings me here tonight, roused by the unexpected
shock of revelation. When I believed I had something special opening up in
my life, an opportunity to explore the matters of the heart, the fates,
rightfully possessed in their right to interfere, lifts me off the fast-lane state
of mind. They lift my tread, my sights, my curiosity enough for me to pause
at the futility behind the excitement. I had sought advice, I had sought the
answers. I just find ironic how they unfolded so.
I found the stillness without the instructor to lead the way. Except there was
nothing peaceful and comforting about it. Although I did feel a rush of cold
replace all the warm and bubbly feelings that occupied it up to the
nanosecond before the surprise.
It coincidentally brings me back for the second time today to reflect on a
similar loss as it occurred almost ten years ago, when I was too much of a
brat to understand relationships. Is it deja-vu for a deceased matter to return
again only this time as a real defeat, but on more valid terms? Do realize
these are not the same people, the same place, nor the same exact
situations, but rather the realization of loss.
What am I to make of the morrow, now?
How am I supposed to live in that kind of atmosphere?
How can I adjust to this violent distortion? I cannot be expected to conquer
my broiling emotions on the spot.
But my heart knows, having had experienced opportunity's rejection.
Somehow, someway, I will get through this and move on with life, again.
Give me the day to grow. Soon it will all be forgotten. The new breeze that
abruptly took upon me on that day, today, will have transformed my attitude
and scope. She'll breath refreshing vitality into my spirit, I will be forced to
abandon the excess. This loss is an excess holding me down. I do not need it