Happy Misery

I try to be content with my delayed advances. It’s a matter of constant negotiation with emotions.

Mostly, the response to pain and inflamation plagues like Job’s lot in the Bible stories. This causes my system to dip into the abyss of longterm carried frustration.

(How does one purge this from their system if circumstances keep pile-burdening?)

Most recently, the muscles in my upper right thigh attachments have seized into a movement-limiting severe torsion.

I still walk with grace, but in a controlled limping gait of strong intention that makes me swagger and puff out my shoulders like a warrior.

Not intimidating at all to prospective suitors.

I suppose it’s to be expected that my body parts take turns spasming because I am often realigning my approach to life’s situations.

Thus, I am pushing at old holding patterns that push back, attempting to keep me stationary, while I extend my efforts too far forward to overcompensate against the suction from the maws of entropy.