Frustrated

Frustration.

Pure unadulterated bloody effing frustration.

It’s like I take a step and 5 more doors slam on me, bolted shut and bounced by the bodyguard of bureaucracy.

We live, looking to the future, always thinking (even subconsciously) of the best. Hoping and being told over and over again that there is Always Hope. That when life hands you lemons you go and make some bloody lemonade.

But, what if your luck is so terrible that even those lemons you’re handed aren’t ripe? That the zesty sour citrus is actually achingly acidic?

I’m dousing this entry with pessimism I know.

I had intended to make a post about successfully living through the first three weeks of college with the juggling of work and travel, and all the happiness I feel in being able to take on Adcanced Maths (so so SO very happy by the way).

But word must come as my fingers fly over this well selected keyboard, and they do, a will of their own and I will conclude this post with these words.

Working for your dream, for the chances that should appear but never do, is damn fricking hard!

I suppose that’s why success is said to be so sweet.

BUT will success ever truly be satisfactory? Will not our mind seek to pursue more? Human nature being ungrateful as it is, never content with the walkway, the escalator, the elevator or even a bloody cherry picker. We want to reach that star and there will always be more stars beyond that.

I’m obviously in a very optimistic mood here.

I pray to my Lord that He keeps me content, that He makes me thankful with what I have and always be happy with even the little successes in life. Ameen.

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