I have problems. Most of, if not all of my problems can be traced back to one person; myself. It would be silly of me to displace the responsibility for my actions onto some other existence simply because it's convenient. I could have done better. As a result of my failure to do better I have had a week, for which, I do not much care.
We will not delve into the details. Less be said, they were expensive and incredibly rapid penalties for my lack of dutiful preparation. Everything was avoidable. It simply...yeah. Feels like I can't catch a break. Really, I am the person standing in my "own" way.
It's really a cycle of failure that has the gravitational pull of Jupiter and I got a pogo stick with big dreams. It feels hopeless. My attitude has improved over the last few hours. I don't typically stay down too long. But I go down often. I bounce back, stronger than ever only to fall to some new, unseen consequence of being born without all of the answers or resources. Money, money, money.
I wonder if I would feel this upset if I didn't have to deal with the responses that being black brings with it? I seriously do ponder. I know every single person has issues. I know that some of these issues are exacerbated for absolutely no reason at all. But then again, some of these issues have reasons and are perpetuated by extension of some secretly held bias. Well, either way, I didn't come to say "Oh, I'm just a poor black boy. Please take pity on me."
I came to vent my difficulty to some degree and keep it pushing. Things happen. The amount of control is comparable to the amount of purposeful preparation. I failed to plan. I'm reaping those benefits even when such is detrimental. One day, I will turn tragedy to triumph. Rather, I should say, I'll do it again. Bet!
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