When to Stop Fighting

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Do y’all believe in fate? Or synchronicity (not the amazing album by the Police, I assume everyone here believes in that)? If things are… aligned, should they feel effortless?  I don’t know if anything in my life really has had that, not fully. I am lucky as all fuckabout, but I’ve also hustled my full ass off, time and time again.

I think certain aspects of things have been effortless. I connect very quickly, very easily. People allow me access to them, in ways I still don’t fully understand. But then after that easy part, I’m always kind of left with a.. “now what” sort of moment, with like… literally everyone in my life, ever.  And that’s what I need to dissect for a sec. Like… the first round of interactions are riding a bicycle downhill, it’s coasting, it’s easy breezy lemon squeezy. And then… then it’s uphill, and I have to peddle. How long it takes to get to that part differs, the angle of the hill changes too; people I’m… less tangled in, they are like.. oh, exert a little more effort, we’re at a 10 degree angle, sustainable for a good long while, potentially. But with some people, some of the most important people to me, it’s like… an 80 degree angle, and every single pump of my legs takes damn near everything out of me, and even with exerting every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears, I am barely making progress. So.. at what point do I say fuck it, stop peddling, and allow myself to slide back? Does that exist? When does it go from an uphill bike ride to me just actually killing myself for a view of a landfill? When is the fight not worth it? When do I go from being strong, to being stupid?

I’m scrappy. I’m a fighter. I’m tough, you know? Defeat is not my natural state, at all. Bury me and I will bloom. I’m a fucking weeble wobble, ya know? I might momentarily touch down, but I’m popping right the fuck back up.

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**Total moment happening as I type… a song called “Never Say Die” is playing on my phone… what? See, it’s that… it’s those fucking moments. I want to quit. I want to throw my hands up. And a song called NEVER.SAY.DIE is playing. I hate signs. I don’t even know if I believe in them. I know it’s stupid easy to read into shit and extrapolate and.. I get it. I do. But… sometimes it just feels like the universe is kicking me in my girl balls, like… shouting through a megaphone that I need to pay attention. (song currently playing has a line in the chorus, “But I will stop at nothing, No, I will stop at nothing now”   … are you freaking kidding me?  Eff the new CHVRCHES album, seriously.)

I write to help myself. This is my therapy. And I really try to come to a conclusion. I try to like.. firm up the thoughts, but this topic is just… fucking jello. I am just so… flummoxed by this one, guys. (I have maybe been waiting my entire life to be able to slide that word in somewhere, and holy shit, I’m so happy that it’s in this post). I imagine this concept will pop up again. Let me see how things play out, maybe I’ll be writing a huge expose on how “fuck fate” next time, who knows? How do I learn to make my own signs?  That’s an interesting thought… spray paint, maybe…

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