Nothing in life works or works out as intended. This
is no indictment of life. It is an indictment of
intent. Intentionality is no joke - cosmic or
otherwise, it is in deadly grim earnest an attempt
to meet reality more than half-way to our plan,
to our dreams, when
all our lives we know and see where
it really lies. We win, the day
we stop daunting life.
The day we give up - not dreams,
but dreaming. We will wake
on our own terms, and we will find they apply.
Until that day, and every day,
Which is not really so bad. These little deaths
kill nothing but the life we never had.