I try to write here about all the beauty that I saw in the world. But even though I try to write about beauty, drama always seems to find me. I am not totally innocent, of course. No one ever is. I will keep trying. It is all I can do. I will probably fail. It is what I seem to be best at.
Every time I get something started, something seems to come along and pull the rug out from under me. It doesn’t matter if it is school, work, relationships, or financial success. I can count on it all going to shit in short order. Sometimes I think it would be easier to just be a hobo and quit trying to make something of this life.
Even a homeless person can go into the library and read a book, so what more do I really need? There are lots of things I want, but what more do I really need? Love and affection seem fleeting, anyway. Can’t take money with me. If I eat too much I just have to exercise more. What do I really want?
I know it might be a self-fulfilling prophecy. If I think I am going to fail, I will. If I think things are going to go wrong, they are. But, still, sometimes I feel like Job, and it makes me angry. I do try. I try very hard. Why does it always go bad? What am I doing wrong? What can I do better?