From me to us middle age onward parenthood in law the greater calling. How recently we assimilated (attempted) moved nested packed -- repeat.
We dance to reach familiarity in time to alter our place as we pull our own rugs out from under us. Earthquakes are more rare than the flux of life.
Numbers add up to what they are supposed to and you and I and us equal what we are trying to make “supposed to” look like. I want supposed to to look like an island with nothing on it but you me and watermelons. I want supposed to to look like our first healthy born child. I want supposed to to look like well rounded jobs that provide square meals and perfect geometry for prosperity. Reflexively created pressure deviates you, spins my hands, makes furr fall out. Creating happiness, listening for complacency, following freedom is not the concern. Entering or exiting do we look left or right?
Choice is the monster from the pressured depths of monotony.
