In attempts to not continue the unnecessary pressure I constantly bestow upon myself, a nice cognac really does justice on a semi-warm Monday night. I watched the sunset this evening as I was rebuilding my strength to continue to post my writings. Discouragement is expected, feelings of defeat are expected. Daily living is viewed as either or at times, why would I expect anything more? It’s taking everything in me, everything out of me to not hide my face and call it a miss. These feelings were what was spoken on previously. The question will always remain: who is this for? The love of you or the love of them? Sometimes it’s scary sharing parts of you. There will always be those parts that have been nurtured, tended to silently, cherished and have bloomed. There will always be so much pride in the growth that the only recognition needed will be the warmth of the sun. But what happens when the sun doesn’t shine it’s light directly? Where does one stand? What is the expectation then? I think the motivation then becomes the rise and the falls, taking into account the many times the heart breaks out of disappointment. Before the sky turned a nice periwinkle with soft hints of mandarin orange outlining the clouds, a glass was poured in celebration. The sun sets to begin another day. What’s there to celebrate when I feel like shit? What’s there to celebrate when I feel like I just keep giving up? What’s there to celebrate?
The fact that I keep going. Cheers.