We try and we try and we try, and yet we still fail. Is there some reward in the trying? Or some satisfaction?
We all falter ... does it matter?
Sometimes I'm acutely aware of what a tenuous grasp I have on this thing I call my life. Because the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry. Our response, at least at first, is to hold on tightly. But maybe there's some value in opening our clenched fists and letting the forces of nature take us where they want us to go.
I feel just like I'm sinking
And I claw for solid ground
I'm pulled down by the undertow
I never thought I could feel so low
And oh, darkness, I feel like letting go
How much choice do we really have in what becomes of us?Posted by Highwaygirl on July 27, 2004 12:00 PM to the category Stuff About Me