Time is a cruel unforgiving bitch.
Well, I'm not quite ready to hold the flowers and have lime thrown on me just yet. I refuse to entertain the thought that my author name may have fallen into the abyss of irrelevance. I know what I must do. I must start again from the beginning while still holding to my accomplishments of the past.
Time has a way of slipping beyond our forbearance, but I want to believe that even though lost for the moment, my place in time is recoverable.
The lifespan of a gnat is a mere seven days. But within that seven days, the little fly must sense that it has lived a lifetime relative to its own kind. In one week the gnat is born, changes from pupil to insect form, seeks food and shelter, seeks mates for the purpose of reproduction, and with all this achieved, it is reclaimed by the universe.
Therefore, I will no longer be complacent and satisfied. I will struggle and achieve as if my days were numbered. I will bring my time to heel and make it follow my desires. Yes, it will be a struggle and time will eventually unshackle herself and knock me down again -- but not without an earnest fight from me.
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