It’s Hard and It Hurts

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Sometimes things can be pointy in life. Quite pokey in fact. With thorns.

Wandering about looking at other people’s fluffy chicks and floppy puppy ears makes it worse. These people have nothing but weird looks for small pointy triangles. They are busy wiping up droppings and drool, or vacuuming hair and fluff.

So, life goes on. People get perfectly groomed lawns to go with their floppy puppies and docile hens that never make noise. Sometimes while everyone else gets perkier, life only accumulates more of the same pointyness.

It’s nothing personal. Just mathematics. Or genetics. Or the order forming out of chaos.

After a time, it becomes futile to question why. It makes more sense to not tell people that the last time a silver lining was looked for it seemed to be made of slime. People like their euphemism to work, allowing them to exit the scene without contracting any thorns, slime, or pokes.

So, it’s better to just let them. Let them go back to the things that they have, away from the things they don’t want. To the wonderful, desirable things that everyone cannot have.

Until one day, it’s different.

Maybe it’s someone asking for help with their slime. Or someone remarks that they like the shade of those thorns. It might just be something discovered in the mirror one day.

Suddenly, it’s breathtaking.

The pattern is unmistakable, so beautiful and unique. Even the thorns and color contribute to the overall picture. It doesn’t make life any different than it was.

It just makes more sense.


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