“If you don’t mind me asking, do you have any dreams or aspirations?”
“I guess I was living my dream but lost it due to some bad decisions… kind of hard to think about the future. Right now, it’s day by day. Everything happens for a reason.”
Jason, let’s get on the right path. Put on those new socks and new kicks. Like the feeling? We can get after it now. Step. After. Step. We’re one day closer already.
No one expects a delivery if you never promise one. I’ve only made promises that I know I can keep. To make sure I can keep a promise, I have to make sure I can deliver it first. That way I know I can keep the promise. But what promise? I’ve had it backwards all this time. I know I have the ability to deliver everything. The way to surprise people is to promise first, then later, deliver nothing.
I’ll share my own promises with the world. Whoever wants can take hold of my wishbone. However, I’ll decide where it breaks.
I’ve been dealt rags. To play with these is a gambit. Nevertheless, I refuse to lose. I’ve got everyone covered and I’m not throwing this hand away. The opponent has two options: fold or be knocked out. These short stacks will regret sitting at the same table as me. If they dare to try to touch my pot I’ll splash it. I’ll turn my rags into riches.
I can figure out how to wrestle hope from the captivity of others. Why can I not wrestle it off myself? Why does it still cling to the fiber of my being? I feel like my greatest ally is betraying me and he will stab me in my side if I don’t aid his operation. What is it that he wants from me?
People praise the hare for his speed and quickness to charge forward. Many are envious of what the hare is able to accomplish. The hare is quick to explore and to discover new areas; to excel in the sprint and reach an area before others. The hare revels in the glory of its success and will often look with condescension at those who have not yet reached the checkpoint. The hare can take hold of any prize it desires, for the hare reaches it first. The hare is a courageous creature that runs rabid; a paltry number can keep its pace and few can pass it in the path.
A young turtle took the time to understand the map before the sprint. He moves slowly, but surely. He takes longer to decide which road is more efficient and profitable. People forgot about him long ago. He, however, is prepared for the war and hopefully he gets there before the hares run circles around each other and lose too many battles. For hares do not understand. They have not brought a shield like the turtle did; their only weapon is their speed which will soon be sapped from their bones. They will be quick to flee from the battlefield as their endurance no longer exists. When they turn and run like the cowards they are, they’ll be staring at the turtle who is blocking their way. Fear and despair will creep into their hearts as the turtle nibbles at their only resource left: hope. He’ll take his time of course. This is a young turtle’s art of war.
I need no title to prove I can lead my obscure army into becoming the brightest force. A decisive victory will demolish their resistance.
Mistakes are a mystery. Is it possible to fully understand? They are both my hope and affliction. It’s impossible to find a definition. There’s always more to describe and no matter how great your memory is, you’ll forget sometimes and have to look them up again.
“Lights out.” That’s what I’ll tell all the kids who think they can disrespect others. Put them in their place.
A critical error. Is my army actually desperate?