"With great power comes great responsibility." Spiderman got it half right. Add in adulthood, and the responsiblity factor increases at least twofold. I didn't ask to grow up or become competent enough to claim self-reliance, but here I am, in my 30s, supposedly an adult, and supposedly responsible. Yahoo.
Instead of feeling proud of traversing a long and arduous path, arguably accomplishing much, I feel defeated. It's as if life has beat me down only to wallop me in the head and then in the gutt just as I crawl to my feet, and there I am again, communing with the floor. Surprisingly I am not disheartened by this rather loathesome state. Instead, I have become resigned to this being the involuntary, systematic cycle I affectionately call my own private "sin-wave". No, not sine wave. SIN wave. Okay, so it's not always sin that directs my plane into a downward tailspin. But it sure is a plausible explanation of my dizzingly predictable existence.
Not to worry; I am not angry or depressed. This is my plight, and I'm gonna eat it, thank you very much.
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