Things must always be... complicated. Or so it seems. I really don't know. I'm running out of words, having used up nearly 2,000 of them each day for NaNoWriMo. To date, I have reached about 34,014 words, and am fast on my way to the next big milestone before the 50,000---the 35,000 mark. It's a psychological thing; things seem to look really far and impossible until at least half the distance (be it by count or time or anything for that matter) has occurred, and then the magic barrier of three-quarters is reached, everything suddenly seems to be tractable, and even pleasurable at times.
Anyway, I have gone all off-tangent again, such a common occurrence. Right, things are always complicated in my world, it seems. It is as though it has been ordained in the heavens that whatever I do must be plagued with all kinds of nasties, so that the eventual outcome will always be tainted by a bittersweet flavour.
1 comment:
The more work you put into something the more valuable and beautiful it becomes to you. Maybe these are blessings that the heavens give you.
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