For shame to speak

Not knowing the future is troublesome. Or knowing the future, rather, is troublesome. Or not knowing. My mind wrestles back and forth trying to solve the impending problem. My mind looks for clues to foreshadow what’s to come. But I can’t know or don’t want to or don’t want to think about it, but inevitably do think about it. Will this play out like a Disney movie or will this play out like a Janes Cameron movie? Life. That pesky bitch. But no, fortune is the bitch. What will she choose? Which do I want? Oof.

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