I’m obsessed lately with the idea that time is slipping by and all I do is not nearly good enough. Before you know it. Before you know it, it’s time to saddle up and travel again. I have a reasonably active schedule – every three months or so, like I mentioned, and then it’s time to head on out to the next stop: here, let’s go let’s go let’s go; should I ever choose to invite my family it’s not as though they would be willing to head off by themselves and have the fun.
We’re at an often-frustrating age, when attention spans and abilities are crossing over with corrosive influences like anger and distraction, mainly learned from us; there’s the end of patience … right … there. We haven’t got enough time to be worried about everything and yet we must, we should and we must. I tell myself that getting these things are as preparation for being smart and setting new things up but the truth is there’s nothing but selfish intent at the root. We spend time together grudgingly, it seems, and that’s not the right attitude to take if that’s all you want out of it.
Keep on working it forward, because what you intend is not what you get. If you’re as selfless as you claim, then show it and prove it with deeds, not words.