Prose, poetry, fiction, and rambles from people with a bit too much time on their hands.


It’s a funny thing. You think you have it – after working and working to gather it up into your hands, like making a ball out of dry uncooperative sand – and then just like that same sand, it deserts you. It does so in one of two ways – either epicly, in one big whoosh, or slowly throughout time, and you suddenly discover it’s all blown away in the wind.

So many times I work myself into a frenzy being the little train that could: “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can!” And then I can’t.

What a coward.

On the other metaphorical hand, when you do manage to keep the sand in your hands, oh the feeling it leaves! You feel like a king. Or in my case, queen, but I digress. It makes you wonder why, in retrospect, why on earth it was so hard to keep the damn sand in the first place.

And the cycle repeats.

Such is life.


2 Comments on “Courage”

  1. Wine Blog says:

    Having courage is tough because one must look directly at their fears and confront them. Just realizing that you could die tomorrow or that your life is only going to last 100 years max, will help you to live without fear. I try to remember to live each day like it was my last. It’s tough though isn’t it.

  2. A says:

    More often than not, I gather the sand, and keep it together, only for it to go to waste through my own inaction.

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