It occurred to me today how odd my attitude must seem to those who do not know my personality or my history. I am perhaps the least concerned of people, worry being something I decidedly have left behind all be it after a significant struggle. My only explanation for this apparent weightlessness in a world seeming overburdened by gravity is simply my mysterious and continuing ability to survive.Trouble has carefully dogged my path equally to any others, illness, debt, misfortune, stupidity andincompetence are as much a part of my exoskeleton as the next souls. Why the surface but tarnishes rather than being eaten through with acidic ease remains incongruous, an unexpected happenstance that leaves me eternally but confusedly thankful.
I admittedly had a good start in life, a comfortable upbringing, a lack of struggle, a degree of luxury I should have enjoyed more and accepted far less readily. Physicality came easily, learning as if by osmosis, life in general was a breeze that tended to blow me in the exact direction I preferred. When difficulty did arise, I was fortunate that someone would ever step in protectively, often unrequested but always with resolution. Such easy recourse to assistance has made me reckless, but also unswervingly generous with mine own bounty.