A Little Bit

As much as we all love a good story about triumph over tragedy. Sometimes it never comes. Rather it’s a physical or mental ailment, or maybe a financial one, or hell all three. The goalpost just seems unreachable. Still we get up in the morning put on our fake facade and head out into the world. I have to admit, I’m pretty good at it. Believe me I’ve had enough practice. And besides who wants to look at a “sad sack” all day. That look only works for puppies and small children. 

So here I lay, putting up with my favorite gastronomic pastime. Going over what I have eaten the past few days to cause it. Looking forward to going back on my favorite broth, bland diet for a while. Yummy. I feel like such an old man. You know age never really bothered me until I realized that I was the oldest person graduating from my class “eight years ago”. Time flies by when you’re wallowing in a sea of depression and low self-esteem the first 45 years of your life. 

Still I suppose I’m contractually obligated to turn this story into a triumph. Huh? Well let me say, despite my hours, days, weeks, months, and years of misery. I always tried. Through whatever physical, mental, or even financial pain. I slipped on my mask and did my best. No matter what others may think or feel about it, I tried. Am I a failure, maybe? To the eyes of a selfish world anyway. The point is within our failures small victories can be found. You just got to quit aiming so Goddamn high, and work on things a little bit at a time. 

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