Must be nice to have that kind of unshakable belief in a merciful higher power.

Certain of misfire, my heart threatens to stop.

But then, my entire life is bullshit. The best things in it have vanished, ghosts. Ghosts I'll admit I created.

As I thought about that, I had to wonder: What will we know better about tomorrow? Who cares? Hindsight is useless.

Not even Carol knows firsthand how it feels to be hurt in such a way by someone who's supposed to protect you

Life is full of choices. We don't always make good ones.

Am I more afraid Of taking a chance and learning I'm somebody I don't know, or of risking new territory, only to find I'm the same old me? There is comfort in the tried and true. Breaking ground might uncover a sinkhole, one impossible to climb out of. And setting sail in uncharted waters might mean capsizing into a sea monster's jaws. Easier to turn my back on these things than to try tjem and fail. And yet, a whisper insists I need to know if they are or aren't integral to me. Status quo is a swamp. And stagnation is slow death.