At least one of the taps is always dripping. If there were none dripping, I would be pervaded with the unease of anticipation unfulfilled.
We’re all plagiarists – stealing from the past to write the future. What we crave in being “born again” is no past. We’re original – an “individual”.
Every day, I wake up and drink my tea.
I eat my bowl of cereal, wondering what will be different.
What icing there will be on the cake, or will it be made of sand?
Chance. Chance is what drives most change. Usually the change we don’t want.
If we knew what was going to happen, would it even need to?
And if we made it happen like we’re told to, would it be true?
It’s having these thoughts that makes me feel solid enough to put a smile on my face.