Monday Evening Thoughts: 2.19.24

Oh, the futility of fulfilment. Cursed by the blessing of instinctual internal wiring that seems to make any sort of satisfaction contained in this biological combustion engine eternally beyond grasp. Always something more. The search for something yet unattained while disregarding any horde of deed, declaration or interaction, mighty or miniscule, that resides in the…

Monday Evening Thoughts: 2.5.24

I struggle with the idea of any destiny beyond that of the self-determined. Which is certainly a contender for the peak point of arrogance. I have a few traits in the running, I suppose. They pair well with the vast array of insecurities.