Temporary

I've often thought of change as a vicious, merciless entity that walks among us, forever subjecting us to its undeniable effects.

Usually I see it as a beast, something that charges in and, for the most part, wreaks havoc and destruction in my life.

I used to make peace with this and justify that logic by saying that when one door closes, another one opens, and that karma will come around and reward you for being patient.

I also get through it by knowing that no change is permanent; those changes will change, and the cycle will continue.

But what of those times when Change throws you a bone, and throws a random, positive twist in your life?

Of course, you don't sit around thinking 'why me?' in such cases, and philosophies over the possible meanings of what is happening.

You just go out and enjoy what you've been given.

Well, most people would, at least...

But my theory on change being a temporary thing, always shifting every which way, has turned upon me in the event of something good actually happening.

Suddenly I find myself nervous that my volatile and temperamental existence is just going to keep shifting, keep changing, and that newly found happiness will change and morph into something else, like water rolling off a ducks back.

Potentially, it could get better; however, optimism and I aren't really on the best of terms right now (hence this chronic anxiety-blogging)

But I've always been hopeful.

Sure, it's optimisms desperate cousin, but it's better than nothing.

So here's hoping change slows down a little, and let's me enjoy the hand it's dealt me.

"and please don't tell me that I'm dreaming,

when all I ever wanted was to dream another sunset with you" - Mayday Parade