Life is for the living, Don’t you know?

I find it hard to do this for myself anymore.

Not necessarily the living, but that of life.

Mousetrapping thoughts of what I should but do. I live for myself but riddle that statement for others. My slice of life is one of Swiss and falls in all the holes I’ve made. Cheesing my own existence.

That of one where hermits move on to bigger shells, only with an ability of extreme vulnerability, risk, shedding previous life of comfort to that of a living?

The platitude of “Get out of your comfort zone” is difficult but not hard. But you still find yourself in a library, club, party, or gathering of others and say “fuck it” and face a fact of humility (one that’s based on truth and how that sits on your scale of self-worth).

Your honesty, truth compared of that of another’s understanding.

If either of these are not close than that is a RISK you take. To be impaired by that of others makes you weak. Now, I type this without a thirst, one that can’t be quenched without water or a beverage. Please do not read into this as an OK, they didn’t get what I was pitching, must be playing a different game kind of person. Trust me, they had a mitt to catch what you were throwing, and they ground balled it back.

 Know what you reading. It is more than words. It takes more listening than thinking of the next thing to say.

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