Some days I wake up and think it's the most beautiful thing ever permitted to exist.
Other days, I wake up loathing it, wishing I was asked whether I wanted it or not, wondering why I have to go through the motions.
Life is terribly confusing.
I'm learning to take the good with the bad; washing the medicine down with a spoonful of sugar.
It's hard, though, some days.
I have a great life, but I think everyone suffers from their own degree of disappointment and frustration and even depression.
I'm at the bottom of this deep hole right now, and it's been a challenge to climb out of. Each day, though, I think I somehow get a little closer to the light.
Then again, sometimes the hole sinks a little further into the ground, and I cry in distress, staring at the bit of sun still peeking through, desperate to reach it again.
I suppose that it's when I stop looking for the bit of sun that I've got a real problem.
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